


Be Careful What You Wish For

by Rhunae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Abuse, Age Difference, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, My First Fanfic, My First Smut, POV First Person, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Fluff, Sex, The notes at the top of each chapter relay if there is smut or not, Violence, duncan/riordan mention as past relationship, trigger warnings are listed in the top notes if applicable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 74,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14198361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhunae/pseuds/Rhunae
Summary: A mage elf, Rhunae, or Rhue as many call her, was never happy in Kinloch Tower so when Grey Warden Duncan arrives looking for recruits, she returns to his room later that night, trying to make a good impression and ends up seducing him.The rest of the story takes place between Kinloch Hold to Ostagar, as Duncan finishes his circuitous route to Highever, Denerim, the Dalish camp, before finally arriving to Ostagar, ending with the infamous battle and Loghain's treachery.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Notes updated (16 February 2019)
> 
> I was really thirsty for more Duncan when I was playing DAO, so I wrote it at the time I was playing the game. I mentioned it to a fellow fanfic writer months later and they demanded I post it. I was only a few chapters in, with the rest of the chapters summed up to be written. This was only supposed to be 13-15 chapters long of almost nearly all smut. Oops. 
> 
> The more I write, the more plot and story and depth of characters is added. Each chapter will be tagged on whether it has smut or not (the important question, right?) and tagged with trigger warnings, if any (because in the course of this writing exercise, Rhue's backstory is coming through, and it's... tragic.).
> 
> While this was originally based on smut, naughty, dirty, kinky smut -- I never intended to share this, (please be kind with your comments) nor did I expect a story to emerge as it has.  
> For a dirty, naughty smutfest, 8/34 chapters have actual smut. (Ch 1, 7, 11, 14, 22, 24, 25, 34)
> 
> Art/Screenshots:  
> Chapter 15 is only art, my (sfw) art.  
> Chapter 22 has DAO screenshots  
> Chapter 25 has my art at the end.  
> Chapter 28 has a photo at the end, one I took in Peru, posted for reference.  
> Chapter 30 is only art, commissioned, giveaways, and freebies by other artists. nsfw toward the bottom.  
> Chapter 34 has my art at the end.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhue drives a hard bargain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2723  
> Smut: Yes (seduction, rough sex, wall sex, fellatio)

 

 

“Rhue? Rhue Surana? What are you doing here at this hour?” The door was ajar just enough for his one dark eye to peek past the door jam.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can I talk to you?”

Opening the door a fraction more to study me, Duncan’s hand pressed against the door jam, his bare arm naturally flexed as he leaned his weight into it, yet hiding most of his muscled body behind the door, “I’m not dressed for company, Rhue. Can it wait till morning?” His voice gruff, but not unkind.

“Please?” I asked, “It’s important.” There was desperation in my voice, he must have heard it when I gently pressed my hand against the door, relenting, allowing me entrance into his bed-chamber. One glance in his direction and I knew he was bare from the waist up. Shit.

He stood to the shadowed side of the door with his hand on the doorknob, flooding his room with the bright light from the hallway, “This is inappropriate. Can this not wait till morning?”

Glancing around the spacious guest room, though divided partially in the middle, not much had changed from earlier in the day when I directed him to this guest bed-chamber at the behest of First Enchanter, Irving. The lamp on the left hand side of the room cast flickering shadows, revealing even in this low light several shelves lined with books meant for guests – tomes of history to poetry, based on her memory of cleaning the room last week; nearby a table with several chairs ringed around it. On the right side of the room, a lamp casts a lonely beacon of light beside the canopied bed on the nightstand. The two armoires stood as silent sentinels to either side of the bed-side of the chamber. Nearby, Duncan’s armor hung neatly on the dummy, illuminated in the golden glow of the lamp and highlighting its intricate patterns. It was the only indication that someone was using this room. His other belongings were fastidiously out of sight.

I felt his eyes on me, but to afraid too look at him, afraid where my thoughts would lead; my focus remained somewhere between his armor and the side of his bearded face.

“Rhue,” his voice remained patient, with a hint of aggravation. Peering into the hallway, he sighed, then closed the door. The room fell into darkness, the lamps failing to illuminate the entire room. He turned to me, crossing his beefy arms across his muscled chest.

“My apologies, Duncan, the Harrowing has me on edge. I need conversation, do you mind? I still have a few more questions for you,” I asked, brushing a stray strand of red from my face and tucking it behind my pointed ear.

He tilted his head in acquiescence.  “What do you wish to speak about?” Duncan shifted his stance, his feet squared, shifting his hands behind his back, as though at attention. Like I’d seen the Templars when they were on duty. He was as much at ease in his underclothes as he was in his armor. Must not think about his underclothes.

“Could you tell me more about the grey wardens?”

He sighed in resignation, “Yes, of course.”

I don’t know what he might have been thinking at that moment, his face shadowed, but I’m sure he was more interested in his bed. I also found myself explicitly interested in his bed, but for different reasons. Initially, I was unsure why my wanderings led me to his door, I, the moth to his flame; but in a tower full of walking tin cans and ashen-faced, anemic mages, he was a refreshing change. Sure, he still wore heavy armor, but it was different. Everything about him was different. And exciting.

He proceeded to retell his monologue, sometimes touching on deeper points than initially. Hearing it the second time, it sounded scripted, the man accustomed to repeating the same words hundreds of times before; but it allowed me time to shift my gaze across the plains and ridges of his chiseled chest, to admire the muscle tone of his physique. Scars crisscrossed his torso, marking white lines across a swarthy complexion. I felt a sudden compulsion to reach out and touch a length of scar that ran diagonally across his abdomen to his hip where it disappeared under his undershorts, but reluctantly kept my hands to my side. I wanted to know the story behind each of those.  I wanted to explore those scars, to count them, to run my tongue across the healed flesh. Working myself up would get me nowhere if he kicked me out of his room, leaving me sorely disappointed, but I could feel my growing desire in the pit of my belly. At least I had my own bedroom now, if this failed. And what was ‘this’? Nothing yet. Yet.

Smiling, just as he began his script about the darkspawn, I interrupted him, “Are grey wardens sworn to celibacy?” I finally looked up at his bearded face, he must have been watching where I was staring, my cheeks flushed, I had broken the track he was on and stunned him to momentary silence.

The silence between us stretched.

“No.  No, we’re not.”

“Are grey wardens allowed to… consort with fellow wardens?” I asked softly, my gaze drifting across his broad shoulders, admiring the corded muscle.

“It’s not unheard of,” he answered carefully, shifting his stance. His pec flexed, though I assumed it was inadvertent due to his movement, “Though I would warn against … consorting… with  wardens of higher rank.”

“Frowned against, or against the rules?”

“This is an inappropriate line of questions. If there are no more questions about the duties of grey wardens, then you should return to your room.”

Trying to sound casual, I changed the subject, “Have you decided who you plan to enlist? Have you chosen me?” My gaze shifted away from him, back towards the bedroom side of the room, lingering on the canopy of the bed. Would he stop me if I removed my robes and climbed into the cave-like recess? I diverted my thoughts away from the scandalous.

Everyone knew the dangers of being a member of the Grey Wardens (though between what I knew, and the truth of it, I was a little naïve), but the mage tower politics, as it were –the restrictions, confinement, and claustrophobia of living in a tower with Templar ‘guardians’ (or jailers) – annoyed me. Chosen for enlistment as Grey Warden became an exciting prospect, I really wanted to leave with him, to be free from the stifling tower, and would do damn near anything to go with him.

If it meant being his lover…

Well. I couldn’t really see a downside to that. However, darkspawn could be problematic to my evolving plans.

“You come highly recommended, being one of the top of your class, but you are also newly harrowed. The First Enchanter recommended other mages to me. There are other, more advanced, mages he wishes me to consider. I will give you an answer later this week.”

“Oh.” My attention returned to his face, noticing his lips partially hidden between mustache and beard, I really wanted to kiss him, to taste his lips. I stepped closer, pressing the flat of my hand against his chest (his skin was so warm!), “Is there anything I could do to help you decide?” Tilting my head to look up into his eyes, “Anything at all?” As much as I wish I could flutter my lashes at him, it would just look like something was stuck in my eye; never envied anyone who could do so, but I certainly did now. I widened my eyes instead, just an innocent mage asking an innocent question. Yup, that’s me.

I felt his hand wrap around my wrist, but he didn’t remove my hand, as my eyes widened, his squinted at me, “Are you trying to seduce me, mage?” His voice was startlingly deep, husky.

Encouraged by his reaction, “Only if you want to be seduced, Commander,” my voice barely above a whisper, still afraid he would throw me out of his room at any moment. “I would not be so presumptuous to think a mage, or elf, would entice you.” Yes! Let’s go for self-deprecation.

His brow furrowed, shaking his head, “You’re too young. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“I’m an adult, and you’re definitely not my father,” I pressed, my voice tinged with anger. Closing the distance between us, I could feel the warmth emanating off his bare skin, and reached for him with my other hand, palm flat against his flat belly, and slowly rubbed my palm upwards to explore across the corded ridges that lay under his skin. My experience was limited, but until that moment, I didn’t realize how much I was missing out. My breath caught in my throat. The Maker had blessed this man.

He seemed to will himself to composure as he smoothly stepped back, back straightened, shoulders squared, pushed my hand off his chest before releasing my wrist, “The morning comes early, you should return to your bed, mage.”

“The morning is hours away,” I pointed out, pulling the tie of my robes loose until the silky fabric slid over my bare shoulders, down my back, to the floor in a pool around my slippered feet. “It’s not the sun’s warmth I crave tonight, commander.” Had I gone too far?

“Rhue,” he breathed. His willpower was crumbling; I could hear it in his voice.

“Duncan. Take me. Please. I beg of you.” I reached up to brush my hair from my face, behind my ear, but with a split second of insight, I deliberately let my fingertips glide down the length of my neck, a fingertip across the collarbone, and down along the curve of my breast.

Closing the distance between us in an instant, he cupped my face with his hands, and pressed his lips roughly against mine, parting them roughly for a deeper kiss. My knees went weak from his thoroughness. I wanted this, but until this moment, I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel his lips, his tongue, his hands, even the scratchiness of his beard, but most especially the heat of his body against my bare skin. His left hand left my cheek and circled below my waist to hoist me into his arms, while I wrapped my legs around his waist, the heat of his loins felt like they would burn my skin. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled the leather strip that kept his shoulder-length hair tied back, and tangled my fingers in his dark hair. He growled low in response. My back felt the chill of the stone wall behind me as he crushed me between the rock and his hard body.

His right palm spread across my neck, tilting my chin upwards and pressing my head against the wall with just the pressure of his fingertips and thumb against my neck, “Bad things can happen to little mages. In dark places. With dangerous men.”

Was he trying to scare me with his hand around my neck? I stared back at him defiantly. He unnerved me, but I refused to show it, but it also excited me, arousing my desire. “What can I say?” My voice a whimpering hunger, “I’m a bad girl.” My hips tilted against him, rubbing against the swell through the thin cloth of his small-clothes. “And I like a little danger.” I slid my hand between our bodies to flutter fingertips around the bulge. The head twitched excitedly against my fingertips.

His hand left my neck and knocked my hand away, “This is what you want?” He growled, adjusting his hips to push the fabric away and shove his enlarged cock deep inside me, impaling me on its full length, my slick entrance giving him easy advance. We both moaned in pleasure.

“Maker!” I exhaled, “Yes, please.” I begged. “That’s exactly what I want.” My mind fogged over, all other thoughts gone.

His lips trailed down my neck until his mouth found one of my pert nipples. “Beg again.” He ordered.  His hips remained fixed, frustrating me with how maddeningly still he remained.

“Please, Duncan, take me.” I curled my body against him, arching my back to press my nipple firmly into his hungry mouth; writhing and wonton for his touch, my hips undulating against him, trying to draw out motion from him.

His lips left the first nipple, leaving it wet and chilled from the night air. It hardened further. “I don’t think you want it that badly.” He grinned wickedly at me, his hand teasing the bud between finger and thumb.

“I do!” I whimpered, “How do I prove it?” Did I mention how maddeningly frustrating he was at delaying?

“I want you to talk dirty, my wanton nymph.” He pinched my nipple. A spike of pleasure shot straight to my core, my hips rocking forward. “Mmm…” He moaned. “Can you do that, little mage?”

“I-I don’t know.” Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single dirty word. “Mud?”

He laughed. “Good try,” he said, rewarding me with a pump of his hips.

I moaned in pleasure, “Please don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t stop if I wanted to,” he rasped, the motion of his hips pumping in earnest, relentless in the pursuit of our conjoined pleasure. He slowed, adjusted his hold on me, left hand giving me a surprise when his thumb probed the tight, puckered star, then relented to rubbing a circular pattern across its surface, and watched me. “You like that?” It gave me a jolt, surprised, but it awakened a knot of nerves, giving me pleasure I never knew existed. “You like it when I fuck you up against the wall?” Between his naughty mutterings and the mix of sensations of everything else, it was enough to push me over the edge. As I moaned my orgasmic pleasure, he clamped his mouth over mine, kissing the pleasure from me. I shuddered, sighed, and went limp in his arms.

“Down on your knees,” he ordered gruffly. Setting me down on my feet, he pressed my shoulders down until my knees were on the hard stone. I had no idea how much the Maker had blessed him until the slick, veiny rod was wavering in my face. “Suck my cock, mage.” He commanded roughly.

“Yes, command—“ Before I could get the words out, the smooth head was pushing past my lips, greeting him with my tongue. Wrapping a hand around the base, careful to press the black curls against his groin (humans were hairy!), I stroked one end and met it in the middle of his shaft with my lips.

“All of it,” he wrapped a fist in my hair and pushed my head down the full length until I was gagging, black curly hair tickling my nose. I looked up at him, but he was shrouded in darkness, only the outline of his body and the arm stuck out against the wall to keep himself up was illuminated from behind. He pulled my head back, giving me a split second to inhale before he was gagging me again with his length. His cock twitched, he groaned. A shot of warmth hit the back of my throat. Then another. He released his hold on my hair. I swallowed, but returned to licking up and down the flagging length of him, and catching what was left on the tip.

“Enough.” He pushed away from the wall, offering a hand to lift me up off my knees, which I readily took. “Get dressed and leave me, mage.” He stalked away toward the other end of the room, his back to me. From this vantage, the lamp light reflected the dampness of his sinewy back, the narrow V of his waist, and the muscled cheeks of his rear.

Draping the robe over my shoulders and tying it around my waist, I looked at his back. There was a crushing weight on my chest. “Do I have an answer? Was that a yes?”

“You’ll have an answer tomorrow.”

Sighing, I opened the door and left his room.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhue is not having any of Duncan's shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 729  
> Smut: No

Staring over her shoulder at the painting on the far side of the room, we were alone in this part of the library, in a corner where most students and teachers didn’t congregate. Mostly because it wasn’t close to the materials or practice areas. At least it didn’t smell like burnt hair as other parts of the library did when we passed through. Burnt something, anyway, it made my nose hair curl. This corner had the more familiar scent of old ink and musky paper. The way a library should smell.

Studying her uplifted face, her expression curious, she had all the delicate features of every other elf I’ve encountered, but softened from years of living a cloistered life in the magi tower. The Dalish were far more fierce, a life of living in the wilds; whereas, the city elves were a lot like kicked dogs living in poverty. She neither the fierceness of the Dalish, nor the cowardly exterior of the city fae. Hers was a quiet confidence. If she had any regrets about last night, she didn’t show it. Her eyes were wide, waiting expectantly, “I’ll be going to First Enchanter Irving to give him my answer today.”

“Is it me?” She nearly bubbled over with excitement; why the zest to meet a quick death?

“Under one condition,” I started, brows knitted together in stern countenance.

“Which is?” She asked, tone guarded.

Glancing around first, I leaned closer, dropping my voice to a bare whisper lined with steel, “Last night didn’t happen, nor will it happen again.” I couldn’t take the risk. If she survived the blight, she still had a good twenty to thirty years. Unlike me – I couldn’t let her think there would be more of last night. It was a mistake to encourage further dalliance.

“Oh.” Rhue frowned at the ground between us, then back up at me, worrying her lower lip with her teeth— did she realize how much that drove me crazy?— her voice lowered to a whisper, a fierceness I experienced with the Dalish, “I can’t promise that.” She glanced behind me, then behind her conspiratorially, my eyebrows knitted together frowning. Leaning close, she hissed, “It did happen. You enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. I want it to happen.” She seemed to take great joy in pronouncing each word with deliberate whispered utterance. “Again. And again. Hard. Fast. Against the wall. Draped over a couch. Soft and slow in your bed.” She sounded breathless, “And so do you.”

“Excuse me?!” I had nothing. I was trying to erect walls, and she was tearing them down just as fast. “We’ll have none of those in a military camp.”

She snorted, “A tree then, your bedroll, an old elven ruin. Don’t deny it, Grey Warden Commander Duncan,” Rhue replied with smug satisfaction, “There’s no shame in what happened. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if that’s how you really felt about last night. You want to know if I regret it. Don’t you? I don’t. Not one bit.” She stepped closer, my breath caught in my throat, but managed to retain my stoic, outward calm. Barely. She tapped her index finger on my armored chest with the fiercest look and defiance I’ve ever seen on an elf’s face, “And if you decided to... what was the word you used? Oh yes, fuck me against that wall right now, I would welcome it. So, no, I won’t pretend it didn’t happen, when I would gladly fight at your side during the day and warm your bed at night.”

She had stunned me to silence. She was stubborn, I would give her that. And it would serve her greatly as a warden. I stepped back, brushing the palms down my armored chest. The silence stretched, the scene from last night playing over in my mind and how she managed to tear down my defenses. I would be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want more of her. I cleared my throat, my voice a little huskier than I intended, “Pack your bags. Meet me in the First Enchanter’s study in an hour.” Briskly, I turned on my heel and left the library. I’d be a fool to let her dig her way through my defenses and make a home there. Maker, who am I kidding?


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jowan asks for a favor. The lead up to the in-game favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 499 (it's short, I'm sorry)  
> Smut: No

 

I sighed, “Dammit.”

Perhaps I was too eager. Didn’t men like the chase? Was I too forward? I was, wasn’t I? Heading in the opposite direction, I brooded my way back to my new room while mentally kicking myself for being the fool. On the plus side, I was being recruited into the Grey Wardens, so there was that, even if the possibility of exploring the Warden Commander’s body with my tongue was out. Just when I’m finally assigned a room to myself, too, but I would give up a thousand personal rooms to have that freedom.   

The hallway was quiet, the other magi were either in the library or elsewhere. A lone figure stood against the wall beside my bedroom door. As I approached, I recognized Jowan as he slouched there, leaning against the door jam, legs crossed at the ankle, and arms crossed. From the looks of it, he may have been standing there awhile, his eyes still closed as I neared. When I was three feet away, he opened his eyes and glanced in my direction. A smile bloomed on his face.

“I need a favor.”

“Hello to you, too,” I said, digging into my pouch for the key.  

“Come on, Rhue,” he whined.

“Now?” I don’t know what I ever saw in him before. Desperation, perhaps? One of the few humans who didn’t look down on me because of my Elvin lineage? Of course, all of that ended some time ago. I was too busy. He was too busy. We were supposedly best of friends, but we barely spoke in months. I rolled my eyes when I turned to unlock my door and open it. “I’m busy, Jowan. I have to pack and meet up with Dun—the Warden Commander in the First Enchanter’s study in an hour. I’m enlisting with the grey wardens.”

Jowan pushed past me into the room, whistling with an appreciation at the amount of space. “Grey Warden, huh?” He sat on the edge bed and gave it a bounce. It squeaked. He patted the space beside him, “One more time for old time’s sake, then?”

I crossed my arms, rolled my eyes dramatically, and shifted my weight to my left foot. After last night, why would I go back to mediocre? I didn’t say this aloud, but if he could read minds, it would be blasting in his head. Besides, I liked to give him shit.

“You may never get another chance with Jowen the stud,” he teased with a smirk.

I tapped my foot impatiently.

“No, huh? I was just kidding anyway.” Rising from the bed, he glanced around the room, “You’re not even unpacked from moving in here.” He pointed to the bag on the floor next to my bed, “Besides, this won’t take long. Ten minutes tops. Come with me to the chapel.”

He was right, I was already packed from the recent move. “Fine.” I followed him.              


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting spanked? Getting rode hard? Sorry, no, this one's a little innocuous this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2178  
> Smut: No

 

With the pack on my back and staff in hand, I stood on the docks waiting with Duncan. Two sentries stood silently beside the huge doors leading into the Tower I called home for longer than I cared to admit. The wind rustled my scarlet hair and blew it across my face. I pushed it back behind my ear. Not that it mattered, it was a losing battle against the wind. The sun was just breaching the eastern horizon; the boatman was rowing across the lake over to the island the tower castle stood upon. Water sloshed against the pile-ons, birds circled overhead, and occasionally fish splashed out of the water. It was the start of a brand new day, and my whole body hummed with excitement to be setting off on this new adventure.

While I nearly bounced on the soles of my feet, Duncan stared ahead, a living statue carved of muscle and mass. But I might as well have been alone. He hadn’t said a single word to me since I was caught helping that blood mage, Jowan, and his love, Lily. _A blood mage._ I was still in shock.

Well. So much for love anyway. Lily was so angry she refused him on the spot when she found out.

I didn’t previously know about Lily. Or the blood magic thing. I couldn’t be happier for him when he introduced me to her just yesterday. She wore her love for him on her sleeve, and he clearly adored her.  Then how distraught and betrayed Lily became after his revelation and she called off their relationship; she was definitely in love with him.

I didn’t realize his betrayal would hurt me so much, though. Maybe because we arrived at the tower within days of each other; both new, young, and scared, we became fast friends. Friends with benefits came much later. Back when things were simpler, we found time to spend in each other’s arms; more to do with hormones than any genuine affection beyond mutual respect. It was a thing. We did it. An opportunity to quell our base urges. _I’m being tested tomorrow_ , he would say, _help me relax_. Or _I’m too excited about tomorrow_ , I would say, _help me burn some of this excess energy._  As we got busy, those times became less and less. We never decided it was best if we remained friends, it just kind of happened that way. And what was it about yesterday, _for old time’s sake_ , yet he had been romancing Lily for months. Would he have gone through with it had I said yes? He probably would have. He was opportunistic that way. Mentally, I rolled my eyes.

I told him everything, like how I did during my Harrowing, when we did have a chance to talk, as he did with me. Or so I thought. Obviously not.

I gave Duncan a sideways glance as the boatman reached the dock. He didn’t bother to look at me as he stepped forward to help the boatman with the ropes and pull the boat closer so I could step into the small vessel. Nor as he stepped in after me, pulling the rope back aboard before sitting down.

On the lake shore, we met three of the King’s soldiers. Two were already on horseback, the third was holding the reins of not only his horse, but two more that were saddled. I’d never ridden a horse before and looked at the large creature with questionable disdain.  

“Help her into the saddle,” Duncan ordered the man on the ground as he took the reins of his black gelding.

“Aye, Grey Warden.” The man snapped back at attention. He offered me a smile. “Ever ridden, miss?”

“No, sir.” I said dubiously.

“May I have your staff, so I can stow it away?” He asked.

I glanced at the staff, then handed it to him. He slid it in between some straps on the other side of the horse before coming back around with a bright smile.

“See here, this is the stirrup. Put your left foot there, then grab a handful of mane at the base of her neck, and pull yourself up. I’ll be down here to help you. Don’t be offended when my hands push on your rear, just swing your leg over the saddle, eh?”

Easy peasy, right? I squinted at the human, “You’re going to be laying hands all over me?”

He blushed, shook his head, and stammered something about just needing to help. He looked at Duncan for guidance, but the grey warden didn’t even look in our direction, instead rechecking the straps that went around the belly of his beast. His shoulders were shaking, though. Was he laughing?

“Use your hands,” called one of the other soldiers, who had taken an interest in what was transpiring between us.

“Oh yes,” said the first, lacing his fingers together, “I can put my hands like this, you step into my hands with your left foot, grab the mane with your left hand, and I’ll hoist you up enough to swing your right leg over the saddle.”

So we attempted that. Of course, I failed. By now, the other soldier had walked his horse over to us to watch what was happening and give his own two cents worth. “Gotta lift ‘er higher than that. She canna get ‘er leg o’er.”

“Can’t I just walk?” I asked hopefully.

“You’ll slow us down. We have things to do and then we must hurry back,” the first soldier replied with a sad shake of his head.

I sighed and stared mistrustfully at the mare. “Alright. Fine. Let’s get this done, then.” I scowled at her, and I could swear that she scowled right back at me.

By the third attempt, the mare had swung her blocky head around to watch curiously. When the soldier interlocked his hands for me to get boosted upwards, the mare sidestepped to the right, and out of mounting range. The momentum certainly lifted me high enough. But I also came down with a hard landing on my rear and sprawled out on the ground.

The other  two soldiers were guffawing behind their hands. The soldier assisting me was quick to pull me up off the ground, abashed for being to blame for my fall. I dusted myself off and gave him and the other soldiers a glare that shut them up; and the horse too, for good measure.

“Sorry, miss. I thought you had it that time. I really did,” he stammered.

“What about those boxes over there?” said the second soldier, pointing to a stack of boxes near the docks from his perch atop of his pale brown gelding. “Walk the mare up next to the boxes, the mage can climb up from there.”

“Good idea,” said the first soldier, who was by now getting frustrated with the whole ordeal. Duncan was not paying any attention to any of us, but instead petting his black gelding and feeding him an apple. A fucking apple. Where the fuck did he get a fucking apple? _A little help here!_ I wanted to scream at him.

So the two of us, followed by the two soldiers atop of their steeds, traipsed to the boxes. I was pretty much over this. I climbed up and waited for the soldier to position the mare in place for me to mount. If this didn’t work, I was going to walk my happy ass over to the pier, get back in the boat, and return to the tower. It took a moment for me to figure out how to do it, but eventually I was finally awkwardly astride the saddle. The mare blew warm breath at me in indignation. “Hey! I’m not that heavy,” I told her. She snorted again, as if disagreeing.

The soldier helped me settle my feet in the stirrups, then gave me the reins. “Hold the reins like so to direct her. Pull the left rein lightly to turn left, and the right to turn right. When you nudge her with your heels, it gets her to go forward. Light pressure, though. Got it?”

“I think so.” I watched him mount his horse with the fluid motion of someone who has done it a million times. And in armor, no less. I nudged the mare with my heels as instructed, but she wouldn’t move. Instead, she glanced back at me and grunted. “Come on.” I tried to bounce forward to get her to move, but she just shifted her weight to the other hoof, her long neck stretching downwards for a tuft of grass. I heard the soldiers snickering to themselves. I snapped the reins and she tossed her head in annoyance. I nudged her again with my heels and she lifted her head, chewing idly. “Come on, ol’ girl, let’s go,” I said, and nudged her harder, digging in my heels. She flattened her ears at my effrontery, and took off at a gallop!

The mare sped past the soldiers. They cried out in surprise. My rear nearly bounced right out of the saddle! I wrapped my arms around her neck and held on for dear life. Every time her hooves landed, the saddle pommel dug into my belly painfully.

I could see my tombstone now. Death by horseback riding.

The mare went straight for the gate, leaving the village behind, and galloped out into the open fields. I was going to be sore — if I managed to survive this.  I heard the soldiers yelling helpful advice from behind me, but with the wind whistling past my ears I heard not a word. Not far from the village, more of the King’s men, a warden, and several pack horses were gathered. I sped right past them. There was more shouting.

I frowned at him, the first thing he said to me all morning when all the fear from the harrowing ride came scorching past my lips in a fitful of anger,  “I’ve never ridden a horse. This is _your_ fault, you know! Had you bothered to _ask_ me, you would have _known_ that. So I should be asking you that question, are you trying to kill me?! ”

His jaw clenched and blew air through his nostrils as he stared down his nose at me, “I took that into account. Would you rather I indulge you as I might with a small child?”

“I would prefer to be on my own two feet,” I said. Staring over the side, I could already imagine breaking an ankle trying to jump off the horse. Nor did I think the mare would stand still long enough for me to shimmy down her belly. Maker, this was far up. Whatever made me concede to this torture? “Or at least in a carriage.”

“Noted. I’ll be certain to inform King Calain an elf mage has requested transportation by carriage, like the Queen of Fereldan.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing I could say was going to make this better, or paint me in a better picture than the child remark he was insinuating. Andraste’s tits, he was infuriating. The jab about being an elf mage didn’t help.

Duncan’s mouth curved into smug satisfaction. He shifted his attention to wait for the soldiers to catch up with the pack ponies.

I sat glowering in the saddle. When the others caught up with us, I counted ten soldiers and one warden, each on their own horse plus three more pack horses.

Duncan handed the reins of the mare off to the soldier that had initially helped me, “Get her a lead line and attach her to my saddle.”

“Yes, sir.” The soldier did as instructed, leaving me to hold on to the saddle’s pommel as the mare was lead by Duncan’s larger gelding. That was my excitement the first day. Nearly dying by horse. Then staring at Duncan’s broad back the rest of the day.

He refused to speak with me the rest of the day. It could have been worse.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1: Rhue has more fun with horses  
> Part 2: Duncan and Marius go to town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1358  
> Smut: No.

 

Once off the Kings Road, we followed a path peppered with deciduous trees of ash and birch. Not far under the canopy, we entered a spacious meadow of lush grasses where wildflowers of every shade sprung out in vivid colors. Birds greeted each other, flittering between trees. An argument of squawking erupted not far from us, but it ended quickly with the offended party flying off to another tree branch several trees away. At the other end of the meadow a small herd of deer grazed beside a sheep herder’s shack. Without sheep in the meadow, I assumed the herder was not present either.

As our horses made their way into the meadow, antlered heads started popping up one by one and watching us, but eventually thought better of their meal; startled, they bounded off into the thick of the woods. I was so enthralled by nature’s spectacle, that I didn’t even realize we had arrived to our campsite for the night.

The soldier that helped me get on the horse, I learned his name was Auric earlier in the day, came over and held the bridle of the mare, “Alright, miss, it’s a bit of a drop, since there’s no boxes around here. Grab the mane here, just like before. Rest your left foot in the stirrup, at the ball of your toes, so you can get leverage. Swing your right leg back over the rump and down. Then lower yourself down to the ground, touch your right foot to the ground, then pull your left foot from the stirrup. I’ll keep her still for you.”

I peered at him skeptically.

Auric shrugged. “I’ll try. She has a mind of her own.”

As instructed, I stood in the stirrup with my left foot, swung my right leg over, and lowered myself to the ground. But the ground was not there. I kept lowering myself lower and lower. Where was the ground?! I felt disoriented. Panic set in when my left leg began to quaver. Losing the battle of keeping my body from falling, my grip on the mane tenacious at best, I slipped backwards and fell. Time felt slowed and the ground so far away. With a lung-deflating thud, my back introduced itself to the ground. My left foot remained with the stirrup, twisting the ankle.

The mare walked two paces forward, pulling me across the grasses. Panicking that she might bolt anyway, I tried to yank my foot free. Auric braced, pulling the mare short from walking off.

“Miss, miss, hold still. I’ll get it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you had it for sure.” The soldier was so frustrated with himself, Auric’s words flew from his mouth in a rush of apologies.

It took only a moment for him to free my foot from the stirrup, and walk the mare off toward a picket line with the rest of the horses. Gritting my teeth, I lay on the ground staring up at the pale blue sky while my ankle and back entered Competitive Throbbing competition, and stretched my arms out, gripping the grass and dirt with my fingers.

A shadow fell over me. My eyes shifted from the sky to focus on the face staring down at me, Duncan knelt down and lightly held my calf in one hand and gently prodded my ankle with the other, “Does this hurt?”

“No.” His thumb pressed against… something. “YES!”

“Here?” He pressed his thumb against the sore spot again.

“That’s it,” I said, sucking in a breath.

He pressed his hand against the sole of my feet, “Do you think you can stand?”

“Oh yes, stand, walk, jump, run, climb trees. I fall off horses every other day,” I retorted with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, Rhue.” Duncan’s brow furrowed, deep lines cutting across his forehead in deep remorse, “That could have been handled better. I was— By the time I realized, it was too late.”

I could have gone on with more scathing sarcasm, but the man was contrite, and it really did pull at my heart strings to watch the remorse cut deep lines in his face. “I— Thank you, Duncan.”

He set my foot down on the grass, leaving me to return my gaze to the blue sky above. When I saw him again, he was at my side, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. He rose, keeping me close against his chest. “You’ll have to remain in camp since you have a sprained ankle.”

“Where are you going?” I was trying to figure out where to put my arms, when I decided to settle one across his shoulders and the other in my lap. I was suddenly feeling all sorts of awkward, and I didn’t understand why.

“Marius and I are going into the village not far from here,” Duncan replied, glancing at me briefly as he walked over to a circle of blackened stones. There were several logs around the fire pit and he set me down on one. Touching my chin with his thumb, there was a brief moment of intimacy that passed between us, his dark eyes met mine. It sent a thrill through me. “Stay off your foot.” Then he was gone, walking back towards his horse, the other warden following in his wake.

 

* * *

 

 

 

After I tied Flint to the hitching post next to the stables, I palmed several coppers to the boys waiting with instructions, “Watch the horses, and make sure they receive some grain.”

They agreed, one biting the copper coin. The eldest of the bunch was no more than twelve.

When Marius was done tying Ghost to the hitch, he joined me. We walked side by side as we entered the village. Maybe a thousand souls lived here, with many more coming through based on how close it was to the King’s Highway. Even now, the village was full of merchants and travelers.

“I heard rumors about someone in Highever. A thief.”

“How do you expect to find him, Duncan?” Marius asked, giving me a sideways glance. “Or do you have a name already?”

“No name yet. But I doubt it will take long once I get in touch with my contacts.”

The other man grunted in response, “Who are we seeing here?” His chin tipping forward to the small village.

“I was going to talk to the Reverend Mother at the Chantry,” I answered, “Plus the girl needs better shoes for riding.” Scanning the street and the village’s inhabitants as we walked by. Some openly stared, but most were used to strangers passing through their town. “With all the refugees coming from the south, I might find a likely recruit.”

Marius nodded, his gaze sweeping across the street, remaining alert. “Are we waiting until Ostagar for the Joining?”

This line of thinking made me think of Rhue and my conundrum in dealing with her. “The Knight Commander of the Templars pressed me to punish the mage. Her crimes, such as they are, don’t seem to warrant latrine duties in Ostagar, which was his idea. But he wouldn’t leave it alone until I promised I would inflict some sort of punishment on her.”

Marius smirked, “So flog her a few times and call it good.”

“Violence?” I gave him a sideways glance.

“As if that ever stopped either of us,” Marius retorted. He thumbed the stables where we left the horses, “Stables should have something suitable for a horse. Nothing with metal spikes or anything. You don’t want to strip the flesh.”

“Hmm.” I paused, scratching the hair on my jaw as I turned to look at him. “Why don’t you return to the stables and see if the owner has anything he’s willing to sell.” I started to dig for my pouch.

Marius nodded, “I have enough. Pay me back later.”

I pushed the pouch back where it belonged, carefully hidden from thieves. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll stick with the horses till you get back,” Marius said, turning on his heel to walk back to the stables.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creepy soldier is creepy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words: 1602  
> Smut: No
> 
> This was meant to be part of Ch 5, but it ran away from me and got longer when my beta reader, aka husband, said it didn't convey what I was wanting it to.

 

We weren’t the only ones to make use of this quiet solitude in the past. The fire pit was charcoal, the stones around it blackened, and the stumps and logs well worn where travelers had made seats into the wood. It was on a log I sat and watched the rest of the soldiers scurry around the camp like ants.

Pulling my left leg over my right thigh, I gently rubbed the soreness around the ankle, probing it with my fingertips. It was going to be inflamed. Stirring mana from my being, just a thread to probe deeper into the skin to check the ligaments, I probed the sore area with magic. Yes, it was stretched, a bit of a tear there, but I could heal that. Spooling more mana, my hands glowed blue, I directed the magic into my skin and into the stretched and torn ligaments, knitting it together until it was almost back to normal. I say normal because the stretched part didn’t want to go back to normal all the way; I’d need to be careful while it healed on its own. A better healer, like Wynne, would have been able to heal that stretchy part, too.

When I glanced up, Auric was staring at me, his brows pinched. I smiled and waved. He turned away, returning to the tent he was erecting on the other end of the field. Furrowing my brow, I watched him for a few more moments. He avoided eye contact. Shaking my head, I decided it must be the mage-thing; a mage-thing or an elf-thing. Or both. I don’t know what he expected. I just left the Mage Tower. Did he think I didn’t use magic now that I was no longer hovered over by Templars?

Ugh. Now I was just getting upset. I needed a distraction.

I stood, keeping most of my weight on my right leg and tentatively tested my weight on my left leg. Success! I walked around the fire pit several times. No more pain. Now to avoid horses entirely and I would be golden.

With everyone busy, I went into the tree-line to search for kindling and small branches for the fire pits. I needed to feel useful. I knew nothing about putting up tents or whatever else went into erecting a military camp. Firewood, I could do that.

It was a beautiful afternoon. It was getting late, but the sun still shown. I think I spent more time staring up into the trees to watch the birds than actually picking up kindling and branches.

Between trips to the fire pit and back to the tree-line, I watched the soldiers busily erect several white tents around the fire pit, yet far enough away to avoid the worse of the embers that might snap out. That ant analogy, that was basically it. They all knew their jobs and did it without question or complaint. I counted only seven; and Duncan and the other warden still had not returned.

With my third trip carrying what downed branches I could find, a soldier pointed me to the hut, “There’s another fire pit inside the sheepherder’s hut. Start a pile there, too, for Warden Commander Duncan’s fire.”

I nodded and headed in that direction. I dropped the sticks off just outside the door flap, then headed back into the tree-line and scoured the forest floor for more kindling and branches to bring back. I paused when I noticed a fluff of brown bound forward, take one look at me, and freeze in place. The two of us rooted in place, waiting for the other to move. I watched as her nose twitched, smelling the air, her long ears swiveled as she listened to the sounds of the forest. I wanted to pet her, but I knew she would never let me get close enough. I never saw a rabbit this close before. Not a live one, anyway.

A crunch of twigs snapping caused her to bound back into the nearby bushes, the cotton ball tail disappearing into the thicket.

Leaning against the tree, Auric grinned at me, eying me from the hood of his brow, “You could have done that … thing,” he waved his fingers, “and caught dinner,” he said, nudging his chin in the direction the rabbit had bounded. The metal plates of his armor were gone, and he wore a sleeveless tunic, breeches, and his boots, wrinkled from a long day in armor. His arms were large and well defined, showing long hours of swinging a sword. A belt slung across his hips where he kept the sheathed sword and dagger. Nothing out of the ordinary of an off duty soldier.

“I didn’t think of it,” I said, taking a step back, skittish. I wasn’t sure if I was the rabbit now or not. He had come to my aid by demand the first time, and by virtue the second time, but seeking me out while away from the rest of the soldiers, made the muscles between my shoulders twitch uncomfortably.

“Of course not,” Auric remarked idly, pushing away from the tree and taking a step closer, “I used to catch them when I was a kid, caged traps, with my sister.” Piercing dark gaze on mine, but his hands hung loosely at his side. His body language may have said, ‘harmless,’ but his facial features screamed, ‘danger.’

“For dinner?” I shifted the bundle of sticks into my left hand and close to my chest, but leaving one in my right. I took another step back.

“Eventually,” he said, and stepped closer. “We were cruel. We wanted to see what would happen. If we did… things.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked carefully, sliding my foot behind me, creating distance.

“She was a mage, too,” Auric tilted his head to one side, ”But that came later.”

“Oh, then she went to the Circle?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light and inquisitive, “Do you know which one?”

The soldier shook his head, eyes still intent, but I noticed his fist clench, “No, she never made it.”

“Did— did something happen to your sister?” I was hesitant to ask, Auric was acting different. Earlier he was helpful and a little shy, and now he seemed predatory and creepy.

There was a commotion coming from the camp, I glanced over my shoulder but I had wandered too far into the tree-line to see anything. When I returned my attention to Auric, he was two paces closer. I squeaked in alarm.

“Rhue?! Where are you?” Duncan called out. Thank the Maker, they were back.

“Don’t say anything,” Auric said, his smile split his lips, baring his teeth.

I narrowed my eyes, “Be right there!” I called over my shoulder. As if I was going to remain here with Soldier Creepy.

Auric scowled, “We were talking. How could you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said shaking my head, bewildered at this snap of difference in behavior.

A crunching in the undergrowth alerted me to someone else’s approach, when Auric grabbed my upper arm, digging his fingers in and pulled me close. His kiss was a surprise, mashing his lips against mine. I pushed him away, shoving the firewood I had collected into his chest as hard as I could.

Auric grunted, releasing me, taking a step back, and putting his arm up across his mouth. The sticks clattered to the ground.

A sound behind me alerted me to another’s presence, I turned around to face Duncan. Before I could open my mouth to complain, Auric said behind me, his voice sheepish and shy, “She asked me for help, sir, then kept trying to kiss me.”

My mouth fell agape and shook my head incredulously, “I did no such thing!”

Duncan’s brow furrowed as he glanced between Auric and me. When he finally spoke it was in a gravelly voice, “Auric, return to camp. I’ll talk with you after.”

The soldier snapped a salute, “Yes, sir.” He walked back the way Duncan had come, but once he had passed the older man, Auric turned and glanced back at me with a smirk.

I frowned at him, but by the time Duncan turned his head to glance back, Auric was already walking away, “He’s lying,” I said.

“Is he?” Duncan asked, regarding me dubiously as he folded his arms.

“I was in the middle of a rabbit stand off when he scared the rabbit away,” I told him.

“A…what?” Duncan’s face changed to dubious to bewildered to amused, “A rabbit stand off? Did it have a knife?”

“Two. In each… er… paw,” I stated emphatically, raising both hands as though I had a weapon in each. “Then it ran away.”

“Right,” he said with a smirk, “Then let’s return to camp before the rabbit comes back and guts us both.”

“But him,” I said pointing in the direction Auric had gone, “he’s lying and creeps me the fuck out. I mean, he told me he tortured animals as a kid, and his sister is probably dead.”

Duncan’s eyebrows arched, “Then it’s best if you both stay away from one another. Let me know if there are any other instances.”

Before we left the tree-line, Duncan helped me gather the sticks I dropped when I shoved them at Auric, then we returned to camp. I looked around for Auric, but I didn’t see him. Not knowing where he was unnerved me more.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT!
> 
> Rhue has to face punishment for helping her blood mage friend, Jowan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 3131  
> Smut: Yes (minor bdsm themes: D/s, spanking, flogging; cunnilingus, rimming, masturbation)

 

“Good night, “Duncan announced to the soldiers sitting around the fire once he finished his meal. Turning to me, he said, “I need to speak with you.” He rose and strode across the field to the hut on the other end.

After drinking wine with dinner, my legs were shaky and unsteady as I rose to follow him. Not often were mages allowed wine, but especially not apprentices. I didn’t think I had that much, but standing, I could definitely feel the fuzziness in my head and the wobble as the earth tilted.

“A little tipsy? Need help getting across the field?” Marius stood and was at my side with a hand on my shoulder.

Waving him off, I took one wavering step, but Marius was there, sweeping me off my feet and hoisting me over his shoulder, the air swooshing from my lungs in a grunt. All I saw in my vision was his backside. Powerful legs shifted gluteal muscle from one side to the other, it was mesmerizing. I wanted to tap out a drum beat on his ass. The thought went straight to my hands without consulting my brain. My eyes followed as my hands tapped out a beat when my brain finally caught up and told me I shouldn’t be doing that. Only then did my hands stop. When his chest rumbled with a deep laugh, I felt my face heat up across my cheeks. Andraste’s tits. No more wine. “You could let me down now.” The answer was another rumble through his chest of him chuckling.

I heard Duncan chuckle behind me, then we passed him as he held the flap to allow the other warden inside. “Do you see this? You should tell your men not to man-handle a mage. I could scorch him, you know.”

Marius laughed, gave my ass a swat before depositing me onto the furs then turned to leave, him and Duncan sharing a look.

“Hello? Are you going to let him get away with that?”

Duncan allowed the flap to fall back into place. He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed and watched me with amusement.

“I’ll take that as a yes. It’ll be your fault when he gets scorched.”

“I’m sure he can handle himself.”

Crossing my feet under me and my arms in front of me, my mood fluxing between agitated, and embarrassed, and tipsy, I asked, “What did you want to talk about, Duncan?”

The room was cozy now, he had unpacked his few belongings. Most of the floor was covered in thin carpets, Rivani, if I were to guess, giving the room a cheerful and colorful ambiance. While I sat on a bed of fur, I rubbed my hand across it, like touching a cloud.

“Chinchilla. Imported,” he answered my unasked question, “Irving and Greagoir asked, rather insisted, separately and together, that I find a punishment that won’t get in the way of your recruitment and mentorship into the Grey Wardens. You helped a blood mage. For the magi and templars, that is a damnable offense. For the Grey Wardens, though I am not familiar with any, the wardens do have blood mages within our ranks. Your assistance to a blood mage wasn’t a deciding factor, but your loyalty to a friend — that impressed me more.”

“So this is what was going on earlier today. Trying to figure out the best punishment for me?”

“In part,” Duncan said, shifting his weight, “You are being given a choice of punishment.”

I laughed, “A choice? Really?”

He nodded, “The first choice is to be flogged. The second choice is work the latrines while in camp and in Ostagar.”

Both were equally bad, the first painful and quick but it might stir long buried memories. The other a lengthy humiliation. My nose wrinkled reflexively at the second choice. “How long is latrine duty?”

“Until I decide you are done,” he responded simply, patiently waiting my answer.

“And the flogging is just the once and done?”

He nodded, “Twenty lashes.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over and done with,” I choked out, trying to sound braver than I felt. My earliest memories were full of pain but I never gave the Templars cause to discipline me once I reached the tower, thankful I escaped an unhappy home life in the alienage. But other mages… then the whispers would start. Sometimes the mage disappeared and never returned. We never questioned why.

“Excellent. Disrobe completely, placing your belongings in a neat pile in the corner” he said crisply, his eyes shifting to the corner he indicated , “When you are done, kneel on the furs.”

“So you’re not going to address Marius hauling me across camp like a sack of potatoes and slapping my ass?” I asked, slipping out of my robes but stalled at my small clothes, feeling a little awkward. I glanced over at him, but he was busy removing his armor and not paying attention to me. I folded my robes, setting them in the corner as he instructed, then removed my small clothes, folding them before laying them atop my robes.

Duncan stripped down to his tunic and breeches, then waited for me. “Did you enjoy it? Him slapping your ass?”

“That’s not the point,” I retorted, feeling my cheeks flush. I sat down on the furs waiting for further instruction. “How are the soldiers to respect me as a mage? As a warden?”

“Point taken,” he said. Duncan’s voice remained calm and long used to commanding, “You’ve disobeyed me by sitting. I said to kneel. I’ve added to your number by one.”

“What?! You didn’t tell me you would be adding to it!”

“You’re questioning your commanding officer. It’s twenty-two.”

“Oh, Andraste’s knickers,” I grumbled as I shifted into a kneel.

“Down on all four,” he commanded.

I was starting to shake, closing my eyes and turning my head into the furs. I felt him move in beside me, his hand gentle as it moved my hair to the side, turning my head back to face him.

“I need to see your face.”  
  
“Why?”

“So I can gauge how much you can handle.”

That was not the answer I was expecting.

His palm ran smoothly down the length of my spine, gliding over my rear, “Spread your knees apart,” he commanded.

I spread my legs as he asked, his touch sending a shiver of desire up the length of my spine. The action confused me, wasn’t I to be punished? He was treating me like a lover.

“If you prefer, I could call Marius in here to do the honors.” When I shook my head, he shrugged, “If you insist.” Hrming under his breath, he leaned down, but I knew what caught his attention. I winced. His fingertips traced the faint lines that criss-crossed my back, followed by soft kisses where I assumed the worst of the marks lay. He was gentle, kind, and tender. It was foreign to me, yet here he was, about to punish me for a transgression he cared little about, but bound by obligation. Why would he be concerned with ancient and faded scars when he was about to add more?

“You are very brave. Would you rather we forgot the lashings, and went with the other punishment?”

“No, I’m fine. I think I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” A shudder ran down the length of my spine.

The silence stretched, the fire crackling in the hearth. Crickets and toads sung their songs outside the hut. “Would you like something to bite on?” Finally asking, as he rummaged in his pack before dropped a strip of leather in front of me.

I paused to think about it, eying the leather bit, I could smell the rich, earthy scent of it. It was oddly soothing, then finally shook my head no.

“Well, if you change your mind, it’s there. Are you ready?”

I nodded. Was I ready? No, not really, but I chose this.

“Good,” he gathered my hair into his left hand, measured movements guided my head back, forcing my back to arch and tilt my hips. He smacked my rear with the palm of his right, the resounding SMACK echoing inside the hut. It jolted me so hard, I nearly fell over with a pained moan, if not for the hold he had on my hair. Following the first smack with another against the other cheek, I barely heard the count of one above me.

Rubbing his palm into each pale cheek, Duncan mused aloud, “That’ll leaving quite the mark.” The rub took the sting out of his assault on my rear, the accidental brushes of his fingers against my sex ignited my desire.

Duncan resumed spanking, a hard smack against each cheek, then palming each to soften the blow. After ten smacks, I was beginning to think his accidental finger brushes weren’t so accidental.

“That was ten, right?” I gasped, trying to regain my breath. He had only counted to five, but I distinctly recall being spanked ten times.

“No, that was five. Each ass cheek counts as half.”

“No, that’s not fair. You swung your hand ten times.”

He paused, considering, “Agreed. I did not stipulate the amount each cheek was worth, but I’ll give it to you. But for arguing with me, you’ve added five to the count. It’s now 27, ten down.”

“What!?” Turning, I sat on my hip to stare at him, my hair slipping from his grasp.

“Twenty-eight.”

“That’s not even close to fair!”

“Thirty.”

“Why are you adding more?!”

“Thirty-five. Do you want to make it forty?”

I clamped my mouth shut and gritted my teeth. I didn’t need him to add more. I glared daggers. He arched an eyebrow. Growling under my breath, I returned to my hands and knees.

“Good girl,” he shifted behind me to admire his handy work, running a palm over each cheek. “Ahh yes, quite the lovely shade of red. Lift that ass up.”

I did, reluctantly, reminding myself the punishment would soon be over.

“Very nice,” he approved, spreading my cheeks apart to stroke his tongue across the folds, flicking the tip in the crevice, and delving deeper to entice my wanton hunger.

Slipping to my elbows and hips tilting to give him more access, I whimpered, “This doesn’t feel like a punishment.”

“Would you like me to stop?” He asked wickedly, his thumb running circles across the puckered hole, and stirring the nerve endings to life, “Have you ever been fucked in the ass?” He asked, doing nothing more than rubbing the uncomfortable away, replacing it with that strange feeling of pleasure.

“No,” I whimpered breathlessly.

The digit caressed around the bundle of nerves, when he pressed his finger in to the first knuckle, stroking the inside twice and pulled out, “Such a tight ass, too.” Pushing the cheeks apart, he bent down and ran his tongue around the rim; it felt like he skimmed every nerve ending, jolting pleasure to the soles of my feet and to the tip of my nose.

“Maker’s breath. More. Please. Don’t stop…” I moaned. I had no idea such pleasure existed.

He chuckled, but gave my ass a swat instead.

I groaned, slumping my head against the furs, “Is that eleven?”

“Did it hurt?”

“Er.. no…?”

“Then no. You’re still at ten.” He stood, retreating to the corner of the room where his saddlebag lay. He rummaged in it for a moment before pulling out a leather bound flogger. He slapped the leather against his thigh as he moved past me towards the fire pit, dropped a branch onto the fire, and returned to his place behind me. “I’ll only be counting the ones that I know must sting,” he said, fluttering the leather tails against my ass, swishing it from side to side, or flicking the leather against my vaginal lips. I was trembling from the tease. SMACK. “Eleven.” He continued toying with me. Back and forth, gentle taps of leather across my red cheeks, then out of the blue, it would connect with a sting fit for a scorpion.

“Bloody ashes, give me warning!”

Duncan rubbed his palm across the sore spot – though it was all sore by this point – “No, if I warned you, would it be nearly as enjoyable? Of course not, because I love your reactions, your whimpering, and all your squirming.” Several more times the flogger snapped against my rear, the last sending the tails directly between my thighs, the leather connecting with a wet SLAP.

I screamed out, gasping at the sudden sting to such a delicate region. And felt his hand immediately smooth the pain of it. “Can we be done?” That one nearly brought me to tears. I was choking on my words to keep from looking like I was weak.

“That was sixteen. You’re half way and doing very well, my little mage.” He set the flogger down and helped roll me onto my back, “But after that, you deserve a break, hmm?” He pressed my legs firmly apart and settled in between my thighs, paying special attention to where the leather had seared me the worse with his mouth and tongue, his beard scratching my skin. He may have started with planting a firm kiss against the offended flesh, but then he sucked the lips into his mouth with the next breath. My breath hitched and lolled my head back, panting as the pain receded as it was replaced with pleasure.

“More, oh yes, more, please…” And just like that, I was no longer done. And he was quite happy to drive me mad with his tongue, the expert touch of his fingers, and even the probe to my ass. I could feel the orgasm coming, the haze billowing over my mind while everything else receded away, limiting my focus to just the pleasure of his touch… then he stopped. “Oh, Duncan, please don’t stop. I’m so close,” I begged. My whole body was vibrating, demanding release.

“Break time is over, my little mage. Time to finish your punishment.”

“Please.” I begged desperately, “no more punishment tonight. Another night, you can finish, please?” I don’t know what he saw as he watched me, my whole body felt like it was humming, waiting for release, my hands gripping the furs as I writhed under him.

Duncan rubbed his calloused hand up and down my inner thigh, thumb teasingly close before gliding his hand back toward my knee, watching me squirm, “I’m adding six to the count, making it twenty-five, if we stop now.”

“Bastard,” my voice husky with wanton need, taking the edge out of the insult. Sliding my hand between my thighs, I spread the lips apart and fingered my clit, “If you don’t hurry up, I’ll finish without you, “ I purred, my head falling back. “Fuck. I’m so close.”

Chuckling, Duncan sunk back on his elbows, swatted my hand away, and settled his mouth where my finger was, sucking the clit into his mouth, nipping and roaming his tongue over the swollen nub. He slid a finger past the folds and deep inside, stroking the interior walls with his finger.

His attention to my pleasure didn’t go unnoticed, but I was afraid to take this beyond just fucking. But dammit, I loved everything about him. Like when bucking my hips against his face, I felt him eagerly delve deeper with his tongue and finger. Or raking my fingers through his hair and nails across his scalp, and hear his groan of pleasure at my rough touch. I enjoyed the contrast of his scratchy beard against my thighs and his tongue like silk caressing between the folds with quick and slow flicks, teasing me. My leg muscles tensed, my toes curled into the fur, and my entire body trembled as pleasure coursed through me, dissolving me into blissful rapture.

Sinking into the furs, trying to regain my breath, Duncan lifted his head and gazed at me from between my thighs with an amused grin. “You don’t have to look so smug,” I said, panting for breath, my chest still heaving, but subsiding.

Chuckling, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’m not finished with you.” Pushing up on his knees, he pulled his tunic over his head, tossing it toward his saddlebags.

I pushed myself up on my elbows to admire the way the fire’s shadow danced across his bare chest, highlighting the ridges of his abdomen muscles. Breeches still on, I could see his hard cock straining against the fabric. My gaze swept back up to his face. Gripping his hair had messed up his ponytail and now his hair stuck up in weird places. I giggled.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, his voice bordering on offended.

“Your hair is a mess,” I said, grinning.

“Well, that’s your fault, you know,” he said, pushing his breeches down his hips, he stroked his hard cock a couple times then stroked the bulbous head against my wet pussy lips. Back and forth, teasing.

“You tease,” I whimpered.

“Already wanting more?” His voice had dropped to that deep, husky tone.

“For you? Absolutely,” I purred, tilting my hips with each pass.

“For me?” He arched an eyebrow, glancing between my face and back between my thighs.

“You’re a good fuck,” I cooed, a lascivious glint in my eyes.

Duncan grunted, driving his cock deep inside me, the grunt turning into a low, husky moan of pleasure. His hips rocked, the pace fast, with penetrating thrusts. His lips met mine, hungry and insistent. I reached for him, my hands digging into his hair, returning his passionate kiss. His breath quickened, skin damp from the exertion, I knew he was close. Slowing his pace, he broke free of my lips, his dark eyes unwavering on mine, hips undulating as he moved within me. With a hand on my hip, he maneuvered my position and then…  
  
Like a shot of lightning from my core and up my spine. “There! Oh! Duncan! Right there!”

With a smug grin, he quickened his pace, thrusting deeply, nailing that spot repeatedly while I clawed at his back, his shoulders, the furs, my skin felt like it was on fire, until I shattered into him, my body bowing. As the tension drained, I flopped back into the furs with a relaxed, blissful sigh as I relearned how to breath. With one last thrust and a deep groan, he slumped against me, his head resting at the curve of my neck.

“You’re a good fuck, too,” he murmured against my ear, then slid off me and to my side, tucking me under his chin. He was asleep before I could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this posted weeks ago, but I was unhappy with the second half (I wrote it seven or eight months ago, so it took me some time to find the rhythm of the scene). Agonizing over it, I rewrote the second half so it could fit more with their personalities. I can't see Duncan as outright cruel, nor can I see Rhue as someone who would put up with it, so the second half was axed. I hope I've done them both justice.


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two parts:  
> Marius and Duncan talk about Rhue.  
> The camp wakes up to a surprise in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2267  
> Smut: No
> 
> This chapter does not feature smut. It does feature violence.

 

After adding more branches to the small fire pit, I left the girl satiated laying on a bed of chinchilla fur, to sleep the sleep of the exhausted. If not for the nightmares, I would be laying with her. Watching her sleep, I dressed quickly in trousers and a tunic, then knelt down and pressed my lips against her forehead; she purred something in her sleep. Smiling, I stepped out of the hut; the air was cool on my skin, the sky a pale purple and blue, the eastern horizon tinged in gold. The birds were already singing their morning song. Beyond the treeline, I scouted a spot for a different relief. In passing, I nodded to a soldier on night watch; he nodded, yawning into his gauntlet.

Returning to the dying fire outside the tents, Marius was waiting for me, a pot of coffee already mixed in with the coals. “Do you think it’s wise, Duncan?” Marius asked, nodding toward the hut. Sitting on a stump, his hands were outstretched to the coals.

His brother and I joined the Grey Wardens at the same time, then a couple years later when Marius ran into some trouble, I sought him out and conscripted him, too. Neither were affected by my past actions, so it was easier for us to forge a life-long friendship. Fellow Fereldens, their formative years were much like mine after my parents died, a street rat with as much sense. Whereas, my parents moved us from Highever to Val Royeaux when I was young, the brothers grew up in Highever, and often confused as twins.

Riordan was delayed in Orlais following a lead, but would join us eventually when the rest of the Grey Wardens crossed the Frostbacks to fight the Blight. Marius answered the call and joined me in Orzammar where I managed to recruited two dwarfs. They were sent ahead to Ostagar with Alistair. 

“She’ll make a fine warden, providing she pass the Joining,” I replied dryly. I wasn’t about to air my personal affairs with the senior warden. Friend, or no.

“That’s not what I meant,” Marius shot me a withering look, “But that’s a good point.”

“Don’t look at me like that, old friend,” I stared at the flames, he stared at me. He wasn’t going to leave it alone. Sighing, I returned my gaze to him, “It’s not wise. At all; and selfish on my part.”

He snorted, “That’s an understatement.”

I frowned at the Ferelden, “It’s also none of your business.”

He snorted again, “If she is a warden, then it’s very much my business. She is a recruit, you are her commander. Involving yourself with her could be detrimental to the morale of the other wardens when we return to Ostagar.”

I furrowed my brow, glancing back to the hut where I was sure she was sleeping. I’d give her a couple hours, but then we had to move out. We had places to go, nor were the Darkspawn known for being patient.

“If I know anything about women, they are unpredictable creatures,” Marius replied, rubbing his palms together briskly, than fanning them to the coals, “But I must press. She is young, and potentially has a long life still ahead of her. What are your intentions with her? Do you really think you have a future there?”

Scowling, my lips pressed into a thin line, “What’s with this dad-talk, anyway?”

His eyebrow arched, “Because I know you.”

Sighing, my shoulders slumped and I scratched at my beard, “I won’t survive the blight, old friend, and if I do, not for long after.”

“My point exactly. Are you so careless with her emotions not to prepare her for the inevitable?”

“The Calling has begun,” I admitted.

“Ahh, well. Then I strongly suggest you don’t break her heart,” Marius replied, wrapping his hand in a thick rag and pulled the kettle from the coals. He poured them both a cup of coffee. Handing the second cup to me.

Accepting the cup, I squatted down beside the coals and sat back on my heels thinking about the conversation.

 

*** * ***

 

“I’ll be the one to help you on the horse,” I was beginning to lose patience. This argument was eating up daylight, my mistake allowing her to sleep an extra hour.

“I won’t get back on her.” Rhue stated defiantly, arms crossed, her weight leaning on her right leg. Despite healing her ankle yesterday, she still favored it today, “I’ll walk. Point me in the direction of Ostagar. I’ll meet you there.”

“Do you even know which direction is south?”

Frowning, she glanced around the glade, then finally pointed in a direction, “That way.”

“That’s west. You would be lost within an hour,” I retorted, glaring at her. Obstinate woman. “It’s not happening. A million different things could happen to you between here and there. And that’s considering **if** you managed to figure out which direction you were going. No.”

The soldiers weren’t exactly surrounding us, but all eyes were turned to us. Whatever they had been doing previously momentarily forgotten. Marius paused as he was walking toward his own gelding, our eyes meeting briefly, then turned to notice the gawkers; with a word to Marta, the Sergeant in charge of the group, the soldiers were sent scurrying to finish packing up camp.

“I’m not getting on that fucking horse,” she met my glare with her own, her chin lifting, a mutinous action of resistance.

“Then I’ll put you on mine,” I sighed, rubbing my hand down my face.

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“You’ll ride with me.”

That was several hours ago. Obstinate woman. I loved her fire and passion. I wrapped my arm more tightly around her waist, securing her body against mine, the back of her against my chest. She was asleep in my arms, her head resting in the crook of my arm. It amazed me just how well she fit in my arms. How quickly she had dug under my walls, burrowed her way into my heart, and planted herself there. If I was a younger man… I shook the thought from my mind. If wishes were fishes. Marius was right. I needed to have that conversation with her. Tonight, after we made camp.

 

  

* * *

 

With another evening spent naked in Duncan’s arms; he wanted to talk, but I had other ideas. I won, exhaustive sleep claiming us in the end with me snuggled against his chest, the beat of his heart lulling me to sleep. It felt like I had just laid my head down when I heard the terrified yelp, I bolted upright, startled awake. Beside me, Duncan was gasping for breath, his bare chest heaving, his eyes wild and unseeing. Reaching out to touch his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He was on his feet faster than I’ve seen anyone move.

“Get dressed. Now.” He was already tugging on his breaches, dressing quickly.

The tent we shared was large enough for a divider in the middle, but we didn’t use it. Our belongings, packs and saddles, were stored in the corner. A small brazier sat in the middle of the space, the coals still glowing red, while our bed of fur was situated near enough to take advantage of the heat. The red satin scarf was the brightest point of color, earlier serving as a bind for my wrists. Picking it up, I tied my hair back.

Finding my discarded robes, I draped the voluminous garment around my shoulders, pulling the fabric close around my body, lazy with the lacing, since it was too early to be traveling, and cinched the belt tight around my waist.

Fully dressed but partially armored, Duncan grabbed his sword belt, when he turned his attention to me. There was something wild in his eyes, I was a little unnerved, “What’s your most offensive spell? Fire? Ice?”

“Fireball, lightning,” I said, more confused by the minute. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“Grab your staff,” he commanded, then strode out of the tent.

“What’s going on?” I called after him, but there was no answer to me, instead I heard him calling out for Marius and Marta.

Finding my staff amongst our belongings in the corner, I followed him out. Marius was already waiting in breaches, a loose shirt, and his dark leather jerkin hanging open. Dark hair a tangled mess, every nerve on edge, swords in hand, Marius was a predator waiting for the prey. He looked feral. A flickering image of raking my hands through his hair and down his back rasped through my mind. I shook the image loose. When I turned my gaze to him again, the feral look turned into a salacious grin. I turned my attention to across the field instead, not comfortable with the thoughts tumbling through my mind. Some of the soldiers were tumbling out of their tents, bewildered, but swords in hand, torso’s covered in armor.

“Stay close, if you see something coming at you. Blast it with fire.” Duncan’s voice was on edge.

There was literally nothing in the camp that was threatening us. Just a bunch of bewildered soldiers, and the two high strung wardens. Not even the forest made a peep.

It was quiet.

Really quiet.

Maybe too quiet.

No crickets singing. No frogs chirping. Not even the hoot of an owl or the squeak of a mouse. Nothing. It felt like the whole world held its breath, including the wind. Waiting. The only sound came from the crackling of the dying fires, the illumination competing with a moon high in the sky. Even the humans were frozen in silent vigil, listening.

The ground trembled. Chaos erupted. Soldiers shouted. The soil on the edge of camp boiled. Hideous things crawled to the surface, barking and howling in angry ruckus. I stood skewing my eyes trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Bald heads with sickly grey skin, bulging yellow eyes, lips peeled back to reveal darkened teeth, armored bodies carrying weapons of metal. One of them screeched an inhuman sound that shuddered down the length of my spine. I bolted in the opposite direction, but stalled short when Duncan’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back around, his voice the calm in a sea of chaos.

“Rhue! Fire!”

It was a command drilled into me during my magic lessons. A reaction by rote, my hand blazed blue, sparks of energy gathered with the waving of my staff. A fireball left my palm, directed by the staff to the hideous things running at us. The ball of fire exploded against the foremost darkspawn, the impact flinging it backwards into his comrades as it screamed in pain. I felt like I was outside my self, watching as I flung fire at unnatural beasts.

“Keep it up.” Duncan drew his sword from the scabbard, he and Marius charging into the fray. Marius cut down the first darkspawn in his path with deadly blades before moving to the next. Duncan dodged the attack against him, swinging his sword to part the head of his victim from its shoulders.

Waving my hand and staff, crackling energy surrounded me as I built up the electricity. Pounding the staff end into the ground, the electricity arced from the tip of the staff and sizzled through three of the dark spawn, allowing the soldiers and wardens the advantage. Though the dread stayed with me, my stomach wound up into a tight ball, it was far easier to fling fire and electricity at these things from afar.

More things crawled out of the ground. There were shouts and screaming and clanking of swords clashing against one another. A thing screeched, catching my attention. I readied another fireball and flung it at the darkspawn barreling toward me. It erupted into flames. In its momentum it continued to charge at me, its lumbering footfalls came up short when it landed with a heavy thud at my feet. Flames and curling smoke of acrid sizzling flesh reached my nostrils.

I retched, falling to my knees and emptied what was left in my stomach next to the burning flesh of the darkspawn. Time slowed, swayed, as I knelt there heaving my guts onto the ground. A hand touched my shoulder, Duncan at my side to help me to my feet. Lifting my gaze, darkspawn lay dead on the ground in pools of dark ochre, the soldiers were cleaning their swords and armor, while others bandaged wounds. Two soldiers were heaving the corpses into a pile to be burned.

“Come, it’s time to pack it up,” Duncan was telling me, but everything was hazy and weird and sounds were far too hushed and far away.

“Will they be back?” I asked him as he helped me into the tent. He was gone again. Was my voice too quiet? Did he answer and I not hear it? I kept smelling that stench of burning flesh and something darker. I brushed my hand under my nose, trying to wipe the smell away.

My hands were shaking, unable to grip anything for long. I don’t know how I managed to push anything into my pack. Duncan was at my side again, talking to me, but I couldn’t make out his words. He took the pack from me, then helped me out of the tent. I still couldn’t hear his words, everything muffled, like I was at the bottom of a well; my head held under water as I stared up at the faces at the lip of the well, as I receded deeper, they drifted far away.


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhue is having a hard time adjusting to being a warden recruit.  
> Duncan has doubts.  
> More darkspawn. More violence. More magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2116  
> Smut: No.

  
  
  
There were more Darkspawn traveling underground. A root system? Some obsolete tunnels? Abandoned mines? The ones we killed were not the end of them and the rest were moving further north. Between Marius and me, we were able to sense them, their direction, and the speed they were traveling. The number was unknown, but enough to cause trouble wherever they popped out of the ground. When the crickets stopped singing, we knew we were close. It helped.  
  
We'd left the Kings Highway early in the hunt, still heading north toward Highever through the mountain passes. We were only a day or two out of our way. The eastern horizon was beginning to lighten, but it would be another hour before the sun reached the horizon.  
  
The soldiers were on edge, at the least those still green around the gills. The others were excited to meet battle again. The group fanned out in case the enemy decided to double back, but once we started moving into the rocky hills, we were limited to going single file.  
  
Riding up along side of me, Marius came from the rear of the column, “How’s she fairing?” He asked, tilting his chin toward Rhue.  
  
The mage was still shivering, but at least she stopped fighting me long enough to wrangle her onto Flint’s back. Fear paralyzed her to the point Marius needed to help me with her. During the ride I kept her solidly against my chest. It seemed to be the only thing keeping her calm. After the hunt, I would pull her aside, calm her down and talk out her fears and anxiety.  
  
“Same. No change.”  
  
Pursing his lips, he nodded, then pulled back till he resumed his position as last in the column.  
  
The blocky silhouette of a village loomed closer, the Darkspawn underground slowing. Did they sense the innocent lives? Pulling to a halt, I waited till Marius returned to my side, the soldiers on horseback mingling behind me. Sergeant Marta edged her horse close to lend an ear and a voice to our plans.  
  
“Marius, Marta” including her, I tilted my chin to the village ahead, “we need to hold them off. I don’t want to fight them in the village street.”  
  
Marta piped in first, “I can take half the soldiers and line us up back here and make some noise, with the horses back by the trees.”  
  
“Marius, you’ll stay with this group. I’ll take the other half and work around the village, push them back to the field. Hammer, anvil. The usual signal.” When the warden and sergeant nodded in agreement, we split our groups. Nudging Flint, I took my group around the village to the other end. I needed to bustle Rhue off somewhere. She would be useless in this fight. My teeth ground at the prospect.  
  
With instructions, I left my group behind and rode into the village to the inn. Looking up at the windows, several faces pressed to the glass; were they concerned about us, or the sudden cease of night sounds alert them to danger?  
  
I dismounted in front of the inn. When Rhue started to utter anxious sounds, I helped her down, my tone soothing, at least I hoped so. I was on edge, nor was I able to hide it, “Here we go. I’ve got you. Just edge yourself over the side and I’ve got you. That’s a girl.” She nearly flung herself into my arms, gripping tight so I wouldn’t release her. “I need you to stay here.”  
  
Rhue whimpered, shaking her head, “No, no, no…”  
  
“There are more of them, and I need my arms free. Can you focus? Are you able to use your staff?” I pulled her staff from the leather straps on the saddle and handed it to her. “If darkspawn are coming at you, blast them with fire. Alright?” I asked her, my hands on her shoulders. The darkspawn were an unexpected complication this far north. I needed more time. Fuck! I would train with her once I could settle her down. How did you prepare a mage to battle darkspawn? “See all those faces up there?” I asked her.  
  
She lifted her chin, her eyes searching the glass panels above, at the faces pressed against the glass.  
  
“You are the last line of defense for them. This is what being a warden is about. Battling darkspawn. Protecting the innocent. I need you to understand that.” Give her something to concentrate on. A sense of duty.  
  
Nodding, her green eyes were large and frightened. Rhue clutched the staff, her knuckles turning white. I hated leaving her like this, anxious and fearful. Would she panic and run at the first sign of danger? Or would she endure and find her courage?  
  
“We’ll be driving them to Marius,” I told her, thumb on her chin to redirect her attention to my face, “You’re going to be ok. If something bursts past me or Marius, kill it. Do you know a spell that pushes back.” When she nodded, “Good, if there are too many, push them back toward Marius, drive them to us. Can you do that?”  
  
She nodded, her eyes still wide as saucers.  
  
Did I mistakenly conscript her from the tower? Was she better left among her fellow mages?  Smiling to hide my doubt, I leaned down and kissed her on the lips. Chaste. “Good.” I left her standing there. There was an inhuman shriek, and then the soldiers started shouting. Hopping on Flint, I reigned him around, pressure with my knees to trot back to my group.

* * *

  


  
  
I didn’t want to face another Darkspawn if it was the last thing I did.  
  
And it might be.  
  
Why now? They were far from Ostagar. Once the horses galloped past me, I  stepped away from the doorway of the inn and into the street, looking to either end. My nerves were on fire as head swung from one direction to the other, up and down the street. Duncan and his makeshift cavalry were driving the darkspawn straight to Marius and the rest of the soldiers.  
  
Turning my gaze upwards, the second story windows were dark, but the faces were still pressed to the glass pane, watching me, watching the soldiers fighting.  
  
I had to master my emotions, I had to remember my training, Those people up there were depending on the soldiers, they were depending on me. My breath quickened, with brisk exhales.  
  
Oh Maker. Why me?  
  
I unpeeled my fingers from the death grip on my staff. Focus. Just Focus. Maybe the soldiers would put down the last of the darkspawn, and I wouldn’t suffer through the fight. Yes, that’s it, Duncan and Marius wouldn’t let anything rush past them. They were skilled. Competent. Brave.  
  
Unlike me. I was none of those things.  
  
A strange heckling laughter caught my attention. Turning my head in the direction of the sound when a blast of fire from between the buildings came straight at me. Jumping to the side, I barely flung out of the way, and could hear the sizzle of my hair as it wafted under my nose. I clamped my hand over my hair, putting the fire out.  
  
“I’m not one of them! Don’t fire at me!” I yelled at my assailant.  
  
The thing, because I couldn’t rightly describe it if I tried, stepped into the street as the setting moon illuminated its horrific features. It was short, bulky with a bald head and sickly pale skin. It carried a staff, the glow of tainted magic infused in its length.  
  
“Oh shit…” I flung fire at the creature, what should have engulfed the monstrous thing in flames, dampened the magic by whatever the… thing… was into grey smoke.  
  
“Duncan!” I called out, readying another spell and casting it at the thing across the street from me, “Why the fuck do these things have magic?!”  
  
I dodged another spell lobbed at me, but my foot sizzled from where it hit. Fuck. “You never told me these things had fucking magic!”  
  
The thing, which I would later learn was a genlock sorcerer or necromancer, starting waving its hand, the dark energy it was manifesting grew thick and murky, a miasma sending tentacles into the air and corrupting everything it touched. Blue wreathed around my wrist, I shoved my palm forward as a blast of force magic sent the thing hurtling through the air, its spell interrupted.  
  
I flung my arm out, the blue glow leaping from my hand and smearing across the ground under the footing of the creature. It attempted to stand, but kept slipping on the magical greasy stain on the ground, coating its armor in the slick stuff. Stomping my staff into the ground, another fireball shot forward, lighting the grease afire. The thing screeched. Once the fire hit the grease, it ignited the genloch on fire. it was no longer considered magical in nature, or so my instructors had informed me so long ago. It’s screeching sent shudders of fear down my spine, stunning me briefly to inaction.  
  
After the grease and fire subsided, the thing lurched upward in disjointed movements until it stood unsteady on its feet, blackened but still able to mutter dark magic under its breath. Blue magic glowed in my palm, when it's eyes widened in surprise as a sword pushed through its chest. It dropped its staff, the light in its deep set yellow eyes fading to black.  
  
Glancing up behind the genloch, Duncan stood with his boot on the creature’s back as he pulled his sword free, wiping the black ooze off his sword before sheathing it.  
  
I ran to him, nearly sobbing in his warm embrace.  
  
“You did well,” his voice rich and full of emotion. “That’s the last of them.”  
  
The sun had crested the horizon and the inn keeper swung open his door inviting them into his establishment.

  
*** * ***  
  
  
Hot tea was pressed into my hand by the innkeeper’s wife. The interior of the common room was blessedly quiet, Duncan and Marius were out handling everything with the mayor and answering any other questions the townsfolk had.  
  
The older woman, her grey hair pulled back into a tight bun, stood near worrying her hands together, “I saw what you did out there,” she said awestruck, if a bit skittish and hesitant.  
  
My eyes lifted to meet hers.  
  
“It was very brave, Ser Warden,” a nervous smile spread across her lips, “Those things. They’d been here a day or two. Scared the miners out of the mines. Killed my son-in-law.”  
  
“I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am,” I told her softly with as much empathy as I could muster.  
  
“It was tragic. Lost a few good boys. We’ve sent for soldiers in Highever, but they never came. Do you think… Do you think there are more?”  
  
“Duncan and Marius—”  
  
The door banged open, Duncan stood in the doorway, his body framed in silhouette against the brightness of the street outside, “Rhue, I need you to come with me.”  
  
The conversation had quickly become awkward with the innkeeper and I was glad for the distraction. “Thank you for the tea, ma’am.” I rose to follow Duncan back into the street. Heading south to the village green, I nearly ran to keep up with his long strides.  
  
“The mayor finally decided where he wanted the darkspawn buried, closest to the trees where it was rocky. Took every soldier to clear out enough dirt and rock to dig a hole.” When we arrived, the hole was there, and five of the bodies were stacked at the lip of the hole, sitting up, sightless black eyes staring past me.  
  
“What do you need me to do?” I asked him, trying to avoid staring at the corpses. My breathing quickened in fast rapid breaths.  
  
Turning me toward him, his face close to mine, “I need you to focus and imagine them alive and well and coming at you. I need you to burn it into your memory that when you detect these things, you wont think about it, and by muscle memory alone, you’ll destroy these sons a bitches. I need you to destroy those corpses until there’s nothing left but ash and bone to bury.”  
  
Furrowing my brow, I stared at him. The fierceness of his dark eyes brooked no argument from me. The last thing I wanted to do was turn his anger against me. Turning away from him and back to the corpses, I started the arduous task of building up magical energy between the palms of my hands to destroy corpses with fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little research on urban combat, but for the Dragon Age time frame equivalent, there's not a lot of gorilla or urban combat that isn't a complete massacre. Streets are narrow, innocents get in the way, no time to erect barriers, etc. Duncan et al wouldn't know the hiding places, and the DS are boiling out of the ground as an ambush tactic. The best they can do is divert the DS attention from the village proper and have the fighting in the field.
> 
> Basically, what I'm saying is I'm fucking clueless about warfare tactics and pulled something out of my ass. :P I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan helps Rhue with her anxiety over the Darkspawn attack.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1576  
> Smut: No, but there is nudity

 

Flint followed an animal trail along a stream, my arm wrapped around the mage’s waist to keep her close to me, “I thought we should leave camp, clean up, and talk about what happened.”  
  
After assigning duties to Marius and Marta to carry out, I took Rhue with me on horseback to find somewhere I could help her through her first night of the darkspawn attack. She needed to come to terms with it, and the sooner I could speak with her the easier it would be for her in the long run. I’d seen men and women spooked by darkspawn, lose hope, and eventually leave on suicide missions into the Deep Roads well before their Calling. The anxiety and helplessness and paranoia taking them down into their own deep roads of depression. She had been unnaturally quiet, introspective since we left the village.  
  
Flint had been following an animal trail along the stream for thirty minutes when I spotted a pooled shallow area, secluded with a grassy bank where we could sit, and Flint could munch on the sweet stream-side grasses. I reigned him to a stop, giving him the command to remain still. I leaned down and ran my lips across the tip of her ear. She giggled. I loved that sound.  
  
“Let’s stop here. It looks like a quiet spot to rest.”  
  
“Are we safe here? Will anything… boil up?” Her voice tinged with the earlier fear.  
  
“I don’t sense darkspawn here, or their lingering corruption. After we killed that alpha, I sensed nothing near. Same with Marius, you heard him.”  
  
After I helped her down, I unstrapped the armor from torso, legs, and arms and sat down by the stream to clean the inky black blood splatter from off my armor with a dirty rag. It would do for now until I had more time to devote the attention.  
  
She sat down nearby, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, her eyes darting at every little sound.  
  
“Do you trust me?” I asked.  
  
“Yes, why?” Rhue turned her gaze to me, curious where my line of thought was going. “I can sense darkspawn. Do you believe me when I tell you that?”  
  
“Yes. Something to do with being a warden?” She rubbed at her nose, making a face.  
  
“Yes. And right now, there is nothing near. The group that attacked was probably a scouting party. It was a small group,” I told her, dipping the rag into the stream, wringing it out, and proceeding with the chest piece next.  
  
Rubbing her nose, a disgusted look crossed her features, “I can’t remove the stench from my nose. I smell it … everywhere.” She rubbed her nose more fiercely, scrubbing her face with the heel of her hand.  
  
Setting the armor and rag aside, I swiftly went to her side, grabbing her wrists to prevent her from scratching up her face , “I have some soap in the saddle bags, we’ll bathe in the stream.”  
  
“What?” With a half-assed tug to free herself, she relented when my grip tightened.  
  
Gently, I guided her over to the horse to grab the soap, handing it off to her to keep her hands busy, “Alright, robes off, let’s clean up.”  
  
With the soap next to her nose, Rhue murmured, “It smells like you.”  
  
“Is that dreadful?”  
  
“No, I like it.”  
  
Her response made me smile. We washed the clothes first. After dipping a toe in the stream, Rhue remained firmly on shore, magic drawing the water from the stream and mixing it with the clothes that tumbled at nose level. I watched with mixed fascination and apprehension. Steam billowed upwards as she dried them. With a flick of her wrist, the fabric folded and landed carefully atop of a rock nearby. To keep her hands busy, I handed her another rag and showed her how to clean my armor. As I kept my eye on her I noticed how often she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand or her scrunched nose when smelling the metallic, putrid stench of the darkspawn blood.    
  
“How do you grow used to this?” She glanced at me with a disgusted look, holding the rag up.  
  
“You don't, not with any certainty,” I said. Watching her help clean my armor pieces in the nude was distracting. Dappled early morning sunlight touched her pale skin, casting her in a golden hue. She was beautiful, but this lighting made her look ethereal. I forced myself to look away, chastising myself for staring. “The moment you become used to it, is the moment you question your humanity. A balancing act between our vigil as the first line of defense, and knowing our enemy as we do.”  
  
“Like being able to sense them?”  
  
“You don’t, not at first, but yes. It gives us advantages, but it's not without its weaknesses.” Wringing out the rag, we finished with the armor. “Now it's our turn,” I said, giving her a wicked grin as I rushed her.  
  
Blinking up in surprise, Rhue asked, “Aren't we returning to the village to take a bath?”  
  
“No,” I grinned, grabbing her up into my arms and splashing into the stream with her.  
  
She giggled, and kicked, and squealed her dismay. “No! No! No! It's too cold!”  
  
“The sooner you dive into life the sooner you can live.”  
  
“What does that even—”  
  
“Hold your breath,” I went down to my knee, taking her down under the water with me for a quick dip and back up again. I gave my hair a quick shake, splattering her further with my wet hair.  
  
The girl gasped, wide eyed and spluttering, her body stiff in my arms, “Brr! We could have returned to the inn to bathe! We didn’t need to do this!” She batted me with one of her hands against my shoulder  
  
“Ahh, see you have been pampered in the tower. Now that you are a warden recruit, you will learn to survive like one,” I replied, chuckling, as I moved back to the shallow end of the stream, grabbing the soap, and sitting down with her in my lap.  
  
Blue energy surrounded her hands as she swirled them under the water, creating soft currents around us, then I noticed the stream began to heat up to a more comfortable bathing degree.  
  
“That’s cheating.”  
  
“If a bear,” Rhue started, giving my beard a gentle tug, “is going to have the audacity to throw me into a frozen river, I will make it comfortable,” she snorted.  
  
Chuckling, I shook my head, “Fair enough.” Running the soap through her red tresses until it was a soapy froth, I handed her the soap, “Wash your face.” While she did so, I scrubbed her scalp and raked my fingers through the shoulder length strands, enjoying the little mewling pleasure sounds she made. Different than the ones she made during sex, but the difference was minuscule.  
  
She splashed water on her face, rinsing the soap away, when she asked with a soft, small voice, “You’re not sending me back to the tower, are you?”  
  
I paused, “Why would you ask that?”  
  
“Because of how I reacted with the darkspawn,” she rubbed her hands absently over the soap, “I would have ran away instead of fight them. I’m… I’m a coward.”  
  
Wrapping my arms around her, I whispered near her ear, “No, you’re not. You’ve never faced them before. You already have three kills and we’ve not even made it to Ostagar, yet.”  
  
“Three?”  
  
“Mhm, in camp, two of those kills were yours; one dead before I reached it, and the one at your feet. The third was in the village.”  
  
“You killed that one.”  
  
“It was dying, I just put it out of its misery, but you receive all the credit,” I said, pressing my lips against her cheek, feeling her smile from the brief contact while her body relaxed into my arms, “I’m proud of you. You did far better than someone else in your position.” Running my hand through her soapy hair, “Now it’s time to rinse this out.”

Dunking her head under the water, she rinsed the soap from her red hair.  
  
Gazing at me, Rhue’s smile was soft, “Thank you. I thought— I thought for sure you would return me to the tower. And if I went back, I— well, they would imprison me, just like Lily, for helping Jowan. I don’t think I would survive that.”  
  
“I conscripted you into the Grey Wardens,” I told her, washing her back with the soap. “Not everyone that join our ranks are the perfect Grey Warden upon enlistment. Not even me.”  
  
Glancing over her shoulder, green eyes twinkling, Rhue grinned, “That has to be quite the story, if you are willing to share sometime.”  
  
Chuckling, I told her, “Another time, perhaps. I’m not in the mood for self depreciation.”  
  
“It can’t be that bad…”  
  
“Maybe later tonight.”  
  
She nodded, satisfied with the answer, “Let me wash your hair.”  
  
We shifted until I was facing away from her. She rubbed the soap between her hands until her palms had a bubbly lather, then stroked the soap through my hair. Her touch was gentle, delicate fingers rubbed the soap into my hair and scalp. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself the indulgence of her soft touch and doting. I felt warm, and my heart felt full.

 


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan and Rhue have unannounced company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1958  
> Smut: YES! (rimming, anal sex, masturbation, voyeurism)

  
  
  
Pushing limbs out of the way, I leaned down against Ghost’s back as he picked his way along the animal trail beside the stream. The only indication Duncan passed this way was Flint’s hoof prints in the dirt, evidence I was heading in the right direction. The sound of water splashing ahead alerted me, but I couldn’t determine if it was the stream rushing over boulders in its path, an animal walking through the water to the other side, or the pair I was hunting down.  
  
The mayor had stared at me, red faced, and nostrils flaring, pointing his finger at me, completely avoiding Sergeant Marta, “Find the Warden-Commander!”  
  
“Sir, the Sergeant can handle the matter.”  
  
The mayor looked her up and down with a look of disgust, “A woman? No, I want the warden-commander to handle this. Otherwise I’m running every single one of you out of my village and stringing the boy up myself.”  
  
Nevermind the Mayor was referring to a dozen highly trained, armed, and dangerous military men and women while most his villager’s ‘weapons’ included mining picks and shovels. To placate the mayor, I agreed to find Duncan.  
  
“And don’t return until you have him!” The mayor turned on his heel in a huff, and marched back to his house across the street from the inn. On the first level was his office, the sheriff’s office, and a jail cell, but he lived on the second floor. Auric was sitting in the jail cell. Fool boy.  
  
The sounds of splashing grew louder, pulling my attention away from the memory. Giving the reins a gentle tug, I halted Ghost, hopped down from his back, and tied his reins to a tree branch. Silently padding down the animal path, careful where my feet landed, careful not to disturb the branches, I remained in the shadows, lingering behind vegetation and bushes to avoid detection.  
  
In the dappled light of morning, the pair of them were leaving the shallows of a pooled stream and returning to the makeshift camp, carpet laid out for a bed and their clothing neatly piled. Flint stood bored nearby chewing on the sweet stream-side grasses. The warden was a bear of a man, both in muscle and hair. The mage was a slip of an elf, pale as snow with fire for hair. My eyes roamed hungrily over her body, enjoying the gentle curves of her physique. Then promptly chastised myself.  
  
Rhue turned once she padded onto the bank, stretched out her hand when blue glowing mist left her palm and extended to a section of stream they previously occupied. That’s when I noticed that a circular area, cut off from the rest of the stream and steaming with heat, flowed back into the current of the cool water.  
  
Huh. I guess mages were more beneficial than I imagined. As long as they didn’t cavort with demons. About to return to Ghost, I paused when Duncan cupped her face in his palms, an expression of deep concern that was rare for the usually stoic man.  
  
“Are you ok?” Duncan asked, his voice easily carrying to me under the canopy of the trees.  
  
Nodding her head, Rhue smiled affectionately, “I’m ok now. Thank you.” Her hands touched his wrists, trailed down his forearm and skipped to his back. Stepping into his embrace, her hands slid down to his rear to pull him close to her.  
  
Chuckling, Duncan kissed her nose, “Now I know you are ok, Rhue-with-the-one-track-mind.”  
  
This was far more intimate than I needed to know. Pulling the cowl closer to my face, I stepped back…  
  
Giggling, Rhue answered, “You mentioned anal before. I think I’m ready to try. Away from everyone. Here, next to water to clean up after.”  
  
Pausing in my tracks, I might have made a strangled sound.  
  
Duncan growled low and swept her up into his arms with her giggling and wrapping her arms around his neck. He detoured to the horse standing nearby to rummage into the saddle bags for a canister, it’s purpose unknown to me, then carried her back to the carpet to lay her down gently.  
  
Slipping further into the shadows to avoid detection, though I could have sworn the old rogue had noticed me. I needed to return to Flint. Should I interrupt them before they even start? The mayor was adamant.    
  
The girl shifted to her knees, giving Duncan a playful ass wiggle as she watched him from over her shoulder. Duncan gave it a resounding smack and she giggled some more.  
  
I pressed hard up against the tree behind me. Fuck. I need to leave here.  
  
Pushing her knees apart, Duncan pressed apart her ass cheeks, then pressed his face between her thighs. Her moans started immediately.  
  
Transfixed, I stood watching in the shadows, knowing I should permit the lovers their privacy, but unable to move my feet from the spot. Duncan took his time, I had to give him credit for wanting her first experienced to be pleasant; while she allowed herself the full vocalizations she may have felt unable to express in camp.  
  
When her hand slipped between her thighs, my hand dropped to my pants, my cock growing hard and pressing uncomfortably against the confining leather of my pants. Pulling the leather straps, I released my cock and begin stroking, my attention on her body and how she responded to Duncan’s ministrations. How she writhed with wanton need.  
  
I wanted it to be my hand between her thighs, stroking fingers sliding deep within the folds, while she panted and whimpered my name.  
  
Duncan lifted his head, rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, then turned his focus on the can next to him. Dipping his fingers into the canister, he rubbed the substance up and down his engorged cock, then slipped his finger in her ass, rubbing gentle, rhythmic penetrations. “Breath. Relax,” he murmured to her.  
  
Initially, she seemed unsure, her mouth hanging open after the first gasp. With his other hand reaching around to her front, her moans increased, “Ohhh Duncan,… fuck me, please… I need you inside me,” Rhue begged with gasping breath.  
  
“Not yet, mon coeur,” he replied, slipping out the single digit and sliding in two, taking his time until she was rocking back into his hand.  
  
Panting, she whimpered, “Yes, yes, that’s so good…”  
  
“Remember to breath, mon coeur, remember to relax,” Duncan instructed her, pulling his fingers free, he spread her cheeks apart and guided his cock to the puckered hole, plunging the head deeper and deeper inside of her. She gasped aloud, her eyes widening at the shock of his width, the expression of a woman who wondered if she made a terrible mistake.  
  
When Duncan was completely inside, he tipped his head back, enjoying the sensation with a deep exhale of breath, “Maker.”  
  
“I think… I think…” Rhue stuttered out.  
  
Gathering her up into his arms, his arm draped across her waist to keep her in place, Duncan nuzzled her neck, “Play with yourself, Rhue,” his voice husky and deep, “I’ll remain still. When you’re ready for more, rock your hips against me,” he continued to instruct her. “You’re in control, sweetheart.”  
  
The hand on my cock stilled as I watched this interaction take place, my head canting to one side as he continued to take care of her needs before his own. The fog of desire was too thick between my ears to consider it beyond the witness of action, but it did pull a smile across my lips.  
  
Stoking the fires of her arousal, first just the jerky motion of her arm, fingers between her thighs, and the soft moans of self pleasure; starting off slow, she began to undulate hips against Duncan.  
  
Rubbing my palm up the shaft, my thumb spread precum across the head of my cock as I watched her, savoring her from afar. The image of crawling under her, taking her cunt in my mouth, my tongue searching the nubile pearl and flicking it mercilessly as Duncan’s cock pumped in and out of her ass; while draped her body down the length of mine, her sweet lips firmly wrapped around my cock, bobbing her head to suck down my full length. My cock twitched in my hand, agreeing with the mental image.  
  
“Ohh, mon coeur, you’re so tight,” Duncan growled, his hands steady on her hips, fingertips gripping her firmly, doing everything in his will power not to move his hips.    
  
My imagination switched the scenario: on my back, her thighs stretched across my hips while I kissed her neck and rocked my hips, my cock pounding into her wet pussy while Duncan penetrated her from behind. Leaning my head against the tree, my knees trembled as my hand clutched the shaft, squeezing with the upstroke. The solid trunk kept me in place, instead of running foolishly down to the bank to join the copulating couple.  
  
“Fuck me, Duncan, please,” Rhue begged, her skin flushed, “This isn’t enough. I need more, please, I need you…”  
  
Urged by her pleading, Duncan slid her back down to the carpet till she was on all fours, gripped her ass cheeks as he began to pummel her ass, skin slapping against skin. She writhed and thrashed under him, a rush of heat spread to her cheeks, her moans loud and urgent. Her body shuddered still, the built up tension draining as she slumped against the carpet in one last final moan of pleasure. Quickening his pace, Duncan didn’t stop until he growled out his pleasure, his toes curling into the carpet with his release.  
  
Yanking down the length of my cock, my breath was haggard and breathless, while pleasure and warmth spread from my loins up my chest to my neck. Release was coming, I felt in deep in my balls before it came spurting out the head, the first ejaculation splashing wetly against the leaves, but the remaining semen dribbling into my hand.  
  
I slid down to my knees trying to catch my breath, eyes shut. With my other hand, I wiped the sweat from my brow and waited for my senses to come back to me.  
  
“I know you are there,” Duncan whispered.  
  
My eyes flew open, searching through the leaves where I last saw them. Neither were on the carpet. Turning my head to where I heard his voice, I saw him within feet of me, still near the stream’s bank but facing me. His head tilted down while he urinated— URINATED— within feet of where I squatted.  
  
“Enjoy the show?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his tone, but then he frowned, “What do you want, Marius? I’m a little busy right now.”  
  
“When did you figure out I was here?” I asked, rising, leaned against the tree, and cleaned up as best I could. I sought out her form and saw that she had returned to the stream to wash off.  
  
“Long enough.” Finished, he stepped to the edge of the stream and washed himself off.  
  
“The mayor requests, erm, demands your presence in solving an issue with Auric.” With his back turned, I turned away to urinate into the bushes, and when finished I stuffed my limp but sated cock back into my leather pants.  
  
“That’s Marta’s responsibility.”  
  
“He refuses to work with her.”  
  
Duncan glanced over at me, frowning, “Fine, I’ll finish up here and return.”  
  
“He told me not to return without you.”  
  
The Warden Commander rolled his eyes, “Where’s Ghost?”  
  
“Not far.”  
  
“Get him and return. Take your time. We need to dress.”  
  
“Of course, yes, ser.”  
  
“And Marius?”  
  
“Ser?”  
  
“No more spying.”  
  
“Of course, ser.”


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angst between Duncan and Rhue.  
> Auric causing more troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1969  
> Smut: No.

 

Returning to the village, the three of us, Duncan and Marius spoke in cryptic words over my head. Marius wanted something from Duncan, while Duncan scowled and chewed on rocks, apparently not wanting the reminder of whatever it was Marius was demanding of him. I was clueless, even when I asked. So instead I diverted my attention to the animal path, trying to determine the names of trees and bushes we passed based on rough, charcoal sketches seen in books.

Once the path opened up to the road, Duncan called for a halt, dismounting first before helping me down from Flint.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopping?”

“I’d like to walk back with you,” Duncan replied, handing the reigns to Marius. The other warden left us alone, taking both horses back to the village.

Walking back, Duncan slid his hand in mine, drawing it to his chest and tracing the lines in my palm as though those lines held some mysterious secret. Sighing, the regret in his tone was palpable, “I’m doing you a disservice, Rhue.”

My brows drew together when I glanced sideways to him, “What do you mean, Duncan?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“I shouldn’t be stealing your time like I do.”

Confused where this line of conversation was going, “Who else would I—”

Shaking his head, “At the tower, I should never have taken advantage of you—”

“That was one hundred percent my dec—”

“And yet you felt the need to use your…charms as your ticket to free yourself of the Circle—”

“Charms?” I yanked my hand out of his grasp, I turned to him, pausing us at the edge of the village green, “You’re saying I whor—”

“No! Not at all,” Duncan retorted with frustration, “Let me finish. You’re a recruit. I won’t send you back.” He held a hand up to forestall any of my objects, rushing through his words, “I’m not doing you any favors. I’m your Commanding Officer, I need to be your mentor first. I thought— I think we should end this. It’s unfair of me—”

“Excuse me,” I snapped my fingers in his face to disrupt his cracked-skull flow of dialog, forcing him to lean his head back, first to look at my fingers, than back at me. “You thought? THOUGHT? I don’t think you THOUGHT at all. You didn’t bother to THINK about asking me? You just assumed! Is all of this…” waving my hand in front of our faces, “…about what you and Marius were talking about? You THOUGHT wrong! You both did.”

“Rhue—”

“No! Fuck you!” I turned on my heel, noticing for the first time we had an audience awkwardly standing on the other end of the village green. By the look of their guilty faces, they heard everything. Pushing past them, I snarled as they stepped hurriedly out of my way, none would meet my gaze. When my gaze landed on Marius’ contrite face, I snapped, “And fuck you, too.” Fuckers, every single fucking one of them.

 

* * *

 

 

There was an awkward moment, watching Rhue storm off while the Mayor approached me in the village green. A gathering waited in the uncomfortable silence that followed: Marta, Marius, a few soldiers, and several villagers.

The Mayor was a short man with a nearly bald head, wisps of grey hair combed over the shiny dome. He was more round, then tall, but his clothing, a suede brown jacket and matching pants, and white ruffled linen shirt, tailored to his thick frame. Probably by the local seamstress in town. I couldn't see a mayor of a town this small, affording clothes from Highever.

The Mayor nervously coughed into his hand, “Warden-Commander, ser, if you will come with me.”

“Of course,” I replied, gesturing to Marta and Marius to follow.

Marius stepped up beside me, his voice low, “I guess that went as well as expected.”

Casting him a sideways glance, I grunted.

“It’s for the best.” Marius murmured, “She’ll be mad right now, but she’ll get over it. The young are resilient.”

 _But would I?_ I thought ruefully to myself, following the mayor into his first floor office.

The Mayor turned, snarling as Marta and I passed, “The woman doesn’t need to be here for this.”

“Sergeant Marta,“ I corrected, “stays,” staring at the Mayor with a stony expression.

“Fine, fine,” the Mayor mumbled, closing the door behind us and waving the request away. He made his way behind his desk and pulled out some papers. Directing his attention to me, “Your boy was seen harassing Maybelle, so there’s witnesses.” He snapped the pages down on the desk in front of me, as if that was supposed to mean anything to me. “Maybelle has already given her statement. Now, what I’d like to see—”

“And Maybelle is?” I interrupted.

“My daughter!” He was flustered from the interruption, “I can retrieve the wood—”

“And the witnesses, who are they?” I asked, picking up the pages and thumbing through them, I handed them over to Marta.

The Mayor opened his mouth to object when he looked at me, then back at her, answering glumly, “Townsfolk.” The Mayor crossed his arms across his broad chest, fuming silently.

Marta handed one of the pages back to me, “Family members?” I asked, glancing over the page and reading through the statement.

“Well, yes, of course.” The Mayor uncrossed his arms, his hands hanging loosely at his side, his fuzzy eyebrows, like dark hairy caterpillars, knitting between his brows.

“And the girl? Where is she?”

“Upstairs in her room,” the Mayor said proudly.

“Bring her down, I’d like to speak with her,” I told him, setting the paper down on the desk.

The Mayor opened his mouth to protest, but when I arched an eyebrow, he snapped his jaws shut. “Of course.” Leaving us in his office, he hurriedly left to retrieve her.

Speaking to the girl with her father present was uneventful, written on her statement was nearly identical to what she told us. Her father beaming proudly at her. It all sounded rehearsed, and the dubious glance Marta cast in my direction meant she thought the same.

“Ser, can you take me to see the prisoner?” I asked, “I’ll leave the Sergeant here with the victim.” I was hoping Marta could coax something else out of the girl without her father in the room.

 

*** * ***

 

With Marta in the office talking to Maybelle, Marius and I spoke with Auric. Taking the papers with me, we followed the Mayer into the room with the cell. The mayor nervously glanced between us and the prisoner, “I have the key right here, so don’t be getting no ideas. I— I need to go check on my daughter.” He bolted from the room. Strange.

The young man had the look of fear in his features. Whatever they said, frightened him. “I swear, I never touched the girl. She flirted with me, asked me to come around the building so she could show me something. I didna wanna. She insisted. So I did. And then she screamed, and two burly miners come and grabbed me, flung me in here. They’ve been talking about stringing me up, and like they hadn’t had a good swinger in awhile. These people, they’re weird, sir, I swear it.”

I shuffled through the paperwork, “Says here, you ripped her dress trying to—”

“No way, never had a chance to even talk a piece before she was screaming.”

“Did you hear a scream?” I asked, glancing at Marius.

“No, at the time I was at the north camp helping the soldiers set up,” Marius replied, his expression bored while he leaned against the door jam, keeping an eye on the hallway as well as the room.

“And I was already gone. Who else of our people could have heard the scream?” I asked Marius.

“The Sergeant, maybe. She wasn’t at the camp.” Marius glanced behind him then moved out of the way as Marta to step in the room.

“You have to believe me, please,” Auric begged, looking between me and Marta. “Sergeant? I’m innocent of this one.”

This one? Furrowing my brow, I glanced at Marta.

“Commander, we should talk. Elsewhere,” Marta said, barely taking note of Auric before turning on her heel.

Nodding, I followed Marta down the hall, past the Mayor’s office to the front door. Marius right behind me.

Once we were outside on the street, Marta turned to me, “What do you think? Do you believe him?”

“I believe he fears dying,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one was trying to eavesdrop. There was a boom of thunder off in the far distance to the north.

Marius glanced at the growing dark clouds in the north with a furrowed brow.

“After the Mayor left, she did tell me she asked Auric to follow her.” Smirking, Marta continued, “She thought he was cute. But when he started saying some strange things, she screamed. I remember her screaming, that much is true. I didn’t have time to ferret out what Auric said to scare her, before her father returned. She clammed right up.”

“Are you really wanting these villagers an excuse to string up a soldier? That could set bad precedence,” Marius added.

“No way. We’ll take him back to Highever and have him tried there,” the sergeant stated.

“We better deliver him there quick, those clouds will drown us wherever we are, or force us to stay here at least two days,” Marius thumbed toward the northern horizon.

“You sure?” I asked, looking to the horizon as a flash crossed the sky.

“I grew up in Highever. Those northern storms flood out the low areas every time.”

“Shit. I’ll speak with the Mayor, and see if we can house the soldiers somewhere,” I said.

“I’ll set up a rotation to watch the prisoner,” Marta added.

“I’ll—”

“Find Rhue, make sure she’s ok.”

I spent the next fifteen minutes arguing with the Mayor about where to put the soldiers in the case of a storm. He finally relented to the hayloft above the stables. At least it was dry. That’s when I informed him a guard would be posted at Aurics’ cell. He was none too pleased, but didn’t argue with me. I spent another few minutes talking to the innkeeper about a third room, but a merchant arrived earlier and already claimed it. No more rooms available. When the three of us met up in the middle of the street, Marius ran up to us gasping for breath, “I can’t find her.”

“What? Check the camp.”

“She wasn’t there,” Marta said, glancing at the soldier at her side.

The soldier opened his mouth, paused and waited for Marta to nod, “I was grabbing a drink in the common room, when I saw her leave, ser. Had her pack and everything. Didn’t think much of it, thought it was Warden’s business.”

Pulling Marius away from Marta and her soldier, I growled low, “This is your fault!”

“With all due respect, ser,” Marius began, carefully keeping his expression neutral and face forward, his eyes darting periodically to my face, “but a relationship with a recruit was ill-conceived. She hasn’t gone through the Joining. The implications if she…” His gaze went back over my shoulder.

Releasing his arm, I nodded, the anger draining away, replaced with concern for my charge, “The timing was ill-conceived. But now we have to find her. Head south. I’ll head north.” Marius remained silent as we walked to the stables for our horses, and silent as we departed separate ways to find the girl. I began to wonder if there was more to it, than just ‘warden moral’ and ‘rank difference’.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More angst between Duncan and Rhue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2562  
> Smut: No.

 

The tears had finally dried, leaving dusty trails down my cheeks, no doubt. The walk was humid, too many slopes, too many ravines and not enough flat surfaces. My legs were screaming, my feet were sore, and I thought blisters were forming on my heels; every step was a nightmare. To make matters worse, a storm cloud was gathering on the horizon. Once I reached Highever, my list of options was an unknown to me. Maybe I could hide out in the alienage. Would my mom remember me? Would my dad accept me? The twitch of my skin along my back made me wince in reminiscence.

However, before the cliffs of Highever ever revealed itself, I needed shelter.

“How dare he,” I growled under my breath for the upteenth time since I walked out of the village, “How fucking dare he.” Searching the tree line, I was looking for something that could be considered shelter for the night of storms and rain. A week ago, I would have considered sitting under a tree, but if nothing else, this week taught me about survival in the woods; the soldiers made their camp into a small village each night. For me, I needed to keep warm and dry.

The road was in the ravine, the splat of rain against my forehead reminded me I needed to find higher ground, but my legs hurt from all the walking up and down hills. Just one more hill, I silently told myself, then I would sit for awhile. Rest.

“Was it just sex? What was all this,” I deepened my voice to mimic his, mocking the terms of endearment, “mon coeur and ‘sweetheart’ bullshit.” Using my staff, I pushed myself up the hill, one foot in front of the other. “Was he bored? Does he have a lover in Highever?”

The chair-height rock I was passing looked tempting, but I knew the moment I sat down, I wouldn't get back up again. The splatter on my cheek urged me forward.

“I should return,“ but as I thought about it, “No, I shouldn’t return. He implied I was a whore,” my mouth twisting in disgust. Left foot forward, than the right, “Not like he would care anyway. I could be lying dead in the ravine and only wolves and ravens would find me.” Scowling under my breath, I stared upwards at the darkening clouds, “Maker, I’m being melodramatic.”

“Why do I care anyway?” I asked myself, one foot before the other, the soles of my feet to my thighs screaming with pain, but trying to ignore it anyway. “It’s only been, what? A week?” I blinked a couple times. A splatter of rain water in my eye. “Fuck, only a week?” I shook my head, so much had happened in that time span, I could have sworn it was longer.

Leaving the Grey Wardens meant I was now an apostate. There was no way I was returning to a Circle. Not if I valued life at all. I had no money to book passage from Highever. Maybe curled up under a tree trying to stay warm and dry would give me an idea I could trade for money. I knew magic, but what did people actually… want?

Duncan. No, no, the people don’t want Duncan. I want Duncan. “It was only sex.” But it was good sex. Was I arguing with my inner voice now? Yes. “No. Fuck you. Fuck him, and fuck the horse he rode in on.”

It took me a moment to realize that the thunder I was hearing was not from the storm, but the galloping of a horse. Turning, at that moment Flint’s head came into view and then Duncan astride the black gelding. A wash of relief spread across his features the moment he saw me.

I turned away from him; I refused to see him happy to see me. It didn’t align with his earlier words. I continued my trek up the hill.

“Rhue.”

“Leave me alone, Duncan,” I called over my shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The clop-clop of horse hooves indicated he was still moving toward me.

“For a walk,” I answered without glancing back at him.

“Too dangerous. It’s about to storm and it’s getting dark. Let me take you back.” He was right behind me, I could feel Flint’s breath puffing horse-y breath into my hair.

“No,” I don’t know why I was being so stubborn, since I wanted nothing more than him to fold me into his arms and ride back to the village inn. Then I remember his last words at the village green and why I was mad; my anger renewed. Why did he have to be so Maker-damned concerned?

“You’ll be caught up in this storm without warmth.” In my peripheral, I noticed Flint’s big black head beside me, and a soft, large brown eye watching me.

Raising my palm upwards, a flame of red hovered over my palm. “I’ve got that covered.”

Passing me, horse and rider maneuver up the hill in front of me. Duncan hopped down, taking the reins in one hand, he paused, blocking my path, “I’ve upset you.”

“Clearly,” I edge away from him and Flint, going at an angle to get to the tree line. I was wasting all this time talking to him, when I needed to find shelter.

Duncan shifted to the side until he blocked my path, “I’m sorry.” He blew a breath past his whiskers, his brow furrowed and his expression contrite.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Duncan. If you’re bored with me, just tell me,” I was doing everything I could to hang on to my anger. I wouldn’t let that puppy-dog look melt my resolve.

“No, that’s not it at all,” he shook his head.

“Another woman? A man?” My voice cracked, and the hesitance asking the questions was even obvious to me. Glancing away from him, I really didn’t want to know the answer.

“Neither.”

Sighing with relief, my eyes darted to his face, the same contrite expression, the same puppy-dog eyes. Why was he making me drag this out of him? I was angry all over again. “So you just arbitrarily decided out of the blue—”

“Marius—”

“Things that don’t matter for five hundred, Alex,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“What?”

“It was a memory game we played in our classes. Nevermind,” I said, shaking my head and waving my hand to dismiss the comment. “Unimportant.”

“I’m not going to be here forever.”

“I realize that, I’m not an idiot,” I bit out, “You would rather talk to Marius about what happens between us? Rather than, instead,… ohhhh, I dunno,… talking to me about us? Novel concept, I know.” My sarcasm level was thick, but I no longer cared. He hurt me, and now he was blaming it on the senior warden.

“I don’t think you understand, Rhue. I know I hurt you, but please, let me explain.”

Staff in one hand, hand on my hip with the other, I stared at him under hooded eyes and a bland expression.

“A warden’s life is shorter than a normal lifespan. Once a warden starts to hear the Calling, the time to enter the deep roads is nigh, either fighting along side the Legion of the Dead, the dwarves who patrol the deep roads; or alone for the sole purpose of killing as many darkspawn as possible until the warden meets his or her death.”

“And you hear this.. Calling?”

“It’s faint, I still have time but not long. I wont survive the Blight. If I do, I’ll head into the Deep Roads.”

“To die.”

“Yes.”

“How many years?”

“Weeks. Months, Rhue. I don’t know precisely.”

Rain fell between us, lightning struck a tree in the distance, the crack of wood splintering as the silence between us stretched; I mulled over his words.

“Can you forgive an impetuous old man.”

“I don’t think you’re old,” I frowned, leaning on my staff. My calves were only marginally happy that I stopped walking, but they were starting to cramp up, “The problem I see, is I accept the age difference, but it seems to be a problem for you. Personally, I don’t care.”

“That’s not entirely true. I can overlook that if it really isn’t a problem for you.”

Shaking my head, my hold on my anger was tenacious, at best now, “It’s not, Duncan. If you had bothered to express your fears before, I would have told you I accept my time is limited with you, to cherish our time together. Regardless. I’ve never fought in a war, but I don’t expect Ostagar to be rainbows and butterflies. I expect there to be death. Mine and yours included. I thought I said as much at the Tower?”

Sighing, Duncan shook his head, “I didn’t think you were serious. We barely knew… know each other. How could you know this is the life you want. I’m giving you a way out.”

“I didn’t ask for it. But I’m going to assume this is what you want.” With a salty sting in my eyes, I tipped my chin to the sky, while rain fell upon my face. I didn’t want him to see the tears.

“No, but it’s the right action. We should continue this back in the village. We’re both getting drenched and you’re shaking. Can you even walk anymore?” His brow was furrowed, no longer that contrite expression, but one of concern.

“I can walk,” I retorted, taking a step forward, but pitching forward instead.

He was there catching me before I fell onto the ground, lifted me up, then helped me on the back of Flint. “Are you steady?” I gave him a brief nod, feeling the heat of embarrassment stretch across my cheeks. He gathered my staff off the ground, sliding it in place under the leather.

“What do you mean, it’s the right action?” I asked, watching him from my perch on the back of Flint.

With a smooth movement, he was in the saddle behind me. Placing one hand on my waist and the other on the reins, he guided Flint back down the hill to the road. Already, rivulets of rain water was running down the well worn road. With a nudge, Flint was galloping down the road back to the village.

“I’m your commanding officer.”

“So.”

“So, if I give you an order, I expect it to be followed.”

“I follow orders.”

Duncan snorted, “I don’t need you to sass me in front of other wardens.”

“I don’t sass you.”

He barked out a laugh. It rumbled through my back to my chest. I glanced over my shoulder to frown at him.

“I can’t show you preference over the others.”

“Are you referring to Marius? So ask him to join,” I said, snickering under my breath.

Duncan sighed, his breath tickling the hair on my neck.

 

*** * ***

 

What took me an hour or two, took us less than a half hour by horseback over hills and ridges of what was an empty, rain drenched road. We arrived to the stables, where Duncan hopped down, then helped me down. The reigns he handed off to one of the soldiers.

“Rhue, can you walk?”

Pulling my staff free before the soldier took Flint away, I turned away from Duncan, hobbling back toward the inn, using my staff like a cane.

Duncan hovered near my elbow, not trying to intrude, but staying near in case I needed him. It was sweet, but if he was serious about his resolved, then I would respect it. Pushing open the door, I hobbled toward the innkeeper.

“Ms Warden. Commander.” The grey haired woman approached me. Us, since Duncan still hovered near me.

“Bath?”

“Yes, of course. This way.” The older woman dug into her skirt pockets, the jangle of keys as she withdrew the ring from her pocket. Following her, I heard his boots against the wood floor; when I cast a glance over my shoulder to shake my head, Duncan stopped and watched me follow the older woman.

The innkeeper lead me into a small, humid room with a tub and white tiles lining the floors and walls. A lantern hung from the ceiling casting a pale yellow glow across the small room. A metal drum was propped up on metal legs in the corner over a small fireplace. The woman turned a spigot at the drum; a series of banging pipes eventually poured warm water into a tub.

“In the cabinet, are towels. There’s a tray of soaps. Granny Mena makes the soap with the local herbs and flowers.” Once she was done, she turned the spigot off, smiled at me, and left the room.

Undressing, I slipped into the water to my chin and soaked my sore muscles, occasionally heating the water with magic. I don’t know how long I was in the bath, but it felt good, and my muscles relaxed under the heat of the water. The complimentary soap smelled good, with the bonus of washing away the scent of Duncan and his woodsy smelling soap.

Rubbing my temples with my wrinkled fingertips, this day hadn’t exactly ended the way I expected. I thought for certain I would be watching the rain fall in sheets while huddled in a crevice trying to keep dry. The conversation with Duncan kept tumbling over through my head, trying to rephrase my responses until something, anything, would have changed between us. But it seemed no matter what I said in my inner dialog, the outcome was the same. And that just upset me all the more. There was nothing I could do or say to change his mind. I decided then I wouldn’t try. It would be awkward, a simple recruit, do as he says, keep my head down, just like at the Circle.

Banging at the door startled me, “Someone’s in here,” I yelled back.

“It’s Duncan. How long are you going to be in there?” He called through the door.

“I’m— I’m getting out now,” I called out.

“Ok.” Foot steps receded from the door.

Getting out, I dried off, and dressed quickly. My hand touched the handle, when a feeling of weariness or fear descended upon me; of facing Duncan, Marius, and the rest of the soldiers. They knew what happened, but how much would change how they treated me?

Pulling the pack across my shoulder, I pulled it open and touched one of the books therein; one of three: a magic tome, a journal, and a plant guide. I’d neglected my studies since I left the Circle, no more. With a little more confidence, I pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway and made my way back into the common area.

Duncan rose and approached me, “Are you ok?”

“I’d like to retire now. Which room do I get?”

Duncan winced, then gestured for me to follow. “Problem about that.” He led me back down the hall to the stairs, taking them two at a time. He was at the top of the stairs waiting for me when I reached the top, “With the storm, the whole town is filled with soldiers and merchants. You, me, and Marius are sharing a room.”


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Rhue in the stables has a mysterious twist, leaving Marius frustrated and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 2329  
> Smut: Yes

 

“Did you sleep well, kitten?”

“I slept fine,” she said, glancing from side to side into each of the stalls, moving down the length of the stable toward me, stopping when she reached the box stall housing Flint. The black gelding nickered at her as he hung his head over the door. From her pocket, Rhue produced an apple, set it on the flat of her palm with meticulous deliberation, her brows drawn in consternation, and cautiously handed it to the black gelding. He reached for the apple, carefully lipping the sweet morsel and crunching it between his teeth. After her first foray in horseback riding, she remained timid and nervous around Ghost and Flint. She avoided Poppy completely. To overcome her fears was cute and endearing. It pulled a smile across my lips to watch her.

“You weren’t looking for an excuse to come find me, were you?” I teased, leaning a hand on the flank of my grey gelding. Ghost stomped his foot, craning his massive head to glance back at me with a large brown eye. Ghost stepped forward, head straining toward her, his nostrils flaring.

She tilted her head, a hint of a smile curling the edges of her lips, “Maybe?” Stuffing her hand in her other pocket, she produced another for Ghost’s inspection, lightly petting his velvety nose with her other hand, “Is this what you want?”

“You’re going to spoil him.”

“He likes it,” she cooed to the gelding, offering Ghost the apple from the palm of her hand.

“He likes pretty girls that offer him sweet treats. Not unlike his rider.” Despite the dim light of the stables, I noticed her cheeks flush from the compliment. “Are you here to offer me a sweet treat, too?”

Hanging her head shyly to the side, allowing her hair to fall across half her face, “What do you want?” one glittery eye peeked between strands of scarlet, that elfish glow in the dim light.

“You know what I want,” untying Ghost, I led him back into his stall and dropped the curry brush into a tool bucket nearby. When I finished, I leaned against the stall, watching her. At least I thought I did, the mundane actions were unimportant, but watching her… her body, her movements, the coy way she watched me, “You haven’t left.”

“No.” She hesitated, “I think I did want to find you…”

Holding out my hand, she wavered, then firmly slipped her fingers between mine. Gently, I tugged her close against me until I could feel the quickening beats of her heart pounding against my chest.

“Do you fear me?” The back of my hand tenderly brushed her cheek.

“No,” her smile growing.

“Good,” I said, turning to lead her deeper into the stable.

“Where are we going?”

When I glanced over my shoulder to her, she was smiling, intrigued and amused.

“There’s a bench in here, and I’d like to kiss you,” I said, “...and more, if you're willing,” as I brought her hand to my lips, walking us backwards into the tack room, past the smell of leather and hay until the back of my knees nudged the bench. Sitting, I helped her straddle my lap.

“You don’t waste any time.”

“No. A public space, with a possibility of being caught. You like that don’t you?” Reaching my hand up, I cupped her face, trailing my thumb across her lower lip. Her eyelashes fluttered and her mouth parted for me. “Just like the stream….”

The comment startled her, “Yes.” Smiling, her eyes sparkling and arms wrapping around my neck, “Kiss me already.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cupping her face, I whispered, my lips hovered a breath away from hers, “Maybe I want to savor it? Maybe I want to savor you?” Our lips touched, gentle, hesitant. Her lips tasted of apples. She whimpered. I growled in response, deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised me. Her lips soft, compliant, her warm mouth opening to mine.

Slim elven fingertips pulled eagerly at my tunic caught my attention.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from her, breathless, “Demanding, aren’t you?” Without waiting her response, I dragged the tunic over my head and dropped it on the bench beside me. I saw the appreciation in her gaze as it swept across my chest back to my face.

“Is that approval?” I asked with a lopsided grin.

“Yes,” she giggled, running the palm of her hands leisurely up my chest, then pressed my back against the wall so she could lean in, her lips tracing kisses over old scars. Evoking a gasp from me, she purred in satisfaction.

Tilting her chin, I captured her lips with mine. The robes were another matter, so much fabric and lacing, but she grabbed my wrists, settling my hands on her hips.

“No?” I asked, pulling back to search her face.

Leaning back, her face flush as she caught her breath, “We shouldn’t.”

Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around her, “Tell me what you want. I’ll go as slow as you need me too.”

“I mean, I want to, but we shouldn’t.”

Brushing a strand of hair from her face, I tucked it behind a pointed ear, “You came to me, kitten.”

Draping her arms over my shoulder, she leaned in and nuzzled her face against my neck.

Receiving mixed signals, I waited dumbfounded, my arms hung loosely around her waist. Brothel wenches were easy. But she was no brothel wench, I reminded myself, nor was I about to treat her like one. I would give her all the time and patience she required. This weird cat and mouse chasing thing, I had little patience for, but I couldn’t convince myself that it bothered me with her. Tilting my head to lean against hers, her hair smelled recently washed with lavender-scented soaps. With her snuggled in my arms, my imagination ran away with me.

_Trailing kisses down her chin, her neck, I tasted the salt of her skin, the scent of her lavender soap on my tongue. At her collar bone, I nipped at her taut skin; her breath hitched. Wrapping my arms around her to lean her back, I dragged my lips and teeth across her skin to the chemise, across the fabric until I could find the hardening nub of her nipple, and sucked on it and the material into my mouth._

_She moaned my name._

_My cock twitched, hardening._

“It’s Duncan,” she pulled back, her eyes wide with surprise.

Did I accidentally grind my hips against her? That mental image was strong enough to believe it was happening. Careful to remain completely still, not even to shift my weight, I asked, “He ended your affair, yes? You are free to do as you wish, with whom you wish.”

“It was not by my choice. Nor his, if I had to guess.”

_Down on her knees, her hands were on my hips, one hand pulling at the drawstrings and rubbing my hardening cock through leather while the other dragged at the waist hem. There was a wanton desperation, an impatience, in her actions. When I lifted my hips, she dragged my leather pants down my thighs to my ankles. Glancing up at me with a flirtatious smile, she trailed kisses across my knee and my inner thigh, the palm of her hands sliding smoothly up my thighs. When she reached my crotch, she grasped at the base of my cock, stroking her small hand up and back down._

_Filling my hands with her hair, I admired her diminutive form, the slope of her back, the swell of her ass. She bowed her head, her mouth warm as her lips wrapped around the head of my cock, then slid down the length of the shaft. Her left hand slipped between my legs, finding other sensitive nerve endings to stroke and ignite my passions._

_“Fuck! That feels good,” my voice a growl, my head falling back against the wall, as I watched her through the slits of my eyes._

Her eyes remained wide open, her tongue flicking out to taste her lips.

Was I imagining her labored breathing? Pushing the palms of her hands against my shoulders, she pressed my back against the wall, and locked her elbows. Though she was still straddling my hips, she was putting distance between us. Taking the hint, I allowed my hands to fall to my side to rest on the bench, I wasn’t about to take any chances that my active imagination was affecting me physically.

“Was it because you wanted me, too? To have a chance with me?”

“Initially? No,” I responded truthfully. “It had everything to do with you being a recruit and he your commanding officer. It was far too easy for an outsider to suspect a power imbalance.”

“And now?”

_While I straddled the bench, her naked body draped down the front of me; her bare legs wrapped around my neck and ankles crossed behind my head. Cradling her lower back with my left hand, I feasted hungrily on the juicy nectar of her cunt, my other arm stretched the length of her torso to fondle and tweak her nipple between my fingers. Her back bowed, and she moaned with every flick of my tongue, cried my name every time my tongue lashed across that sweet spot, and bucked her hips anytime she redirected my efforts from teasing to pleasure._

Clearing my throat, I battled the urge to wipe my mouth before responding, “Yes. I want you.” My voice was lower and huskier than I intended.

Her cheeks flushed pink, her chest heaving; moments passed for her to collect herself. Was she having the same hallucinations? “I want you both. If I initiate anything with you, I’ll lose him completely. I can’t risk that. Fix it? Please? Your words ended our affair. Fix it so I can have you, too?”

_Head thrown back, nails digging into my shoulders, Rhue bounced her hips against mine while I rocked mine forward, plunging my cock deep inside. The motion made the bench creak in protest. Her moans were escalating, echoing off the walls. She was close. Clamping my mouth over her nipple, I sucked on the nub and gently nibbled on it. It was worth it to hear my name on her lips. My thumb found the nub between her nether lips, it was extended, and hard, and throbbing. And so, so wet. Doing nothing more than adding pressure, her body movements did most of the work._

She pushed violently against my shoulders and fell on her ass onto the hardwood floor, skittering backwards until her back hit the other wall, knocking lead lines and halters off the peg and falling on her head.

“Ow.” Her hands covered her head to protect herself from anything bigger than strips of leather and cord.

“Wait.” Pushing off the bench, I went to her. Crouching, I offered her my hand, but also bracing myself for another of those visions.

Closing her eyes tight, she shook her head, whispering, “I— I have to go.”

“I’ll talk to Duncan. Just…stay.”

Glancing up at me with a fond smile, Rhue shifted to her knees, cupped my cheeks in her hands and leaned in to gently press her lips against mine.

 

 * * *

 

A noise startled me, when I opened my eyes again, I was lying in my bedroll, a fire crackling in the hearth not far from me. My cock was distractedly hard.

Disorientated, I sat up, “Fuck.”

Duncan had a sleeping Rhue in his arms, having just gathered her out of the chair and moved her to the bed. Pulling the covers to her chin, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. She rolled over with a sleepy mumble. He glanced my way when he returned to the chair and sat down, “Did I wake you?”

“Yes. No.” Rubbing my temples, I groaned under my breath. “I had a strange dream. It was…vivid.”

“Huh.” He grunted, pushing her books into her bag. “Anything you want to talk about?”

I remembered now. The books reminded me. After Duncan told her the three of us were sharing a room, she grumbled under her breath, sat down in the chair, and proceeded to ignore both of us with her books as her focus.

“I’m not sure I should,” at least my cock was waning now that I was awake.

Duncan arched an eyebrow. Still in his armor, he leaned back into the chair in awkward comfort.

Picking myself out of the bedroll, I sat down in the chair opposite him. Frowning, I rubbed my temples, “I’m not sure where to start. See, I was having sex with her in the stables— No, we were kissing, and talking, but there was sex—”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t,” he snapped.

“No, we didn’t finish—”

“I’m still not interested,” Duncan was rising from his chair.

“Wait! Before you leave, hear me out.” Duncan sat down on the edge of the chair, glowering at me. “I was having these flashes of fucking her, but wait—” I held out a hand to keep him from leaving, flustered that I couldn’t adequately explain quickly, “In between, we were talking. She wants you back, and… I think she wants a threesome… You know, I don’t mind sharing. We could—”

“Even if— You come to tell me this now? After today, at your insistence?” He was already rising again.

“I know, I fucked up,” I said, throwing up my hands, “Look, I’d suck your cock if it meant—”

Duncan’s head snapped to look at me. No smile. No frown. Just a hard look that I was unsure how to interpret. He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

“Hey, I’m not picky,” I said sheepishly.

Without looking at me, he opened the door, “I don’t want you alone with her. Get your boots on.” Leaving the door open, he walked out into the hall to wait.

 


	15. Personal FanArt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I bought a tablet in March and I've been dabbling with some art.
> 
> 1\. Duncan and Rhunae (Finished 5/30/18)  
> 2\. Riordan and Marius (Finished 6/12/18)  
> 3\. Impressionism of the stream location in Ch 10 & 11\. (Finished 6/10/18)

Duncan and Rhunae, background is Bioware.

Riordan and Marius. Riordan needed a younger brother, so I gave him one.

I was trying my hand at impressionism. My first attempt after a few YouTubes and looking at some of the Greats.

Ch 10 - Stream Location where Duncan and Rhue clean up after the darkspawn attack

Ch 11 - Same location where Marius finds them and watches like the bad little voyeur he is.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self depreciating notes:  
> I'm no artist by any stretch of the imagination. I trace a lot of the details because I can't seem to freehand a straight line, much less a curvy line. 
> 
> However, with Marius, though I created a character in DAO for the inspiration, it deviated from the sketch by the time I was done. He had different ideas on what he looked like, and though I see the artistic mistakes, I'm still rather proud of what I created.


	16. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius can sometimes be annoying. Duncan has ways of dealing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1586  
> Smut: No, but there is mention.  
> tw: violence

 

“You boys are up late,” the innkeeper replied, once we sat down next to the window overlooking the main street of the village.

“Something happening across the street?” I asked, nudging my chin toward the Mayor’s office. It was late, but bright light streamed from the windows into the dark, stormy night; people milling near the curtained windows within.

“Council meeting. It’s a regular occurrence. I think they’re over there drinking, if you ask me,” she replied with a harsh bite to her words.

“Your husband over there?”

She merely nodded, “What can I get you?”

“Do you have chamomile tea? Need something to help me sleep.”

“Warm milk helps with that, too.”

Shaking my head, “Never agrees with my stomach. Just the tea.”

“And you?” her attention shifting to Marius.

“Coffee and a shot of whiskey,” as he adjusted in his chair. Initially, it wobbled and creaked, then settled when he stopped moving.

“You don’t plan on sleeping?” She chuckled, with a disbelieving shake of her head.

“That’s what the whiskey is for,” he grinned with a playful wink.

“Coming right up, wardens,” she walked away chuckling to herself.

Leaning back in the chair, I arched an eyebrow at him, but Marius wasn’t paying attention to me. His expression furrowed thoughtfully as he stared somewhere mid point at the table.

“So I won't focus on the kissing and the fucking. But she said, fix it, fix it so I can have you both.”

“You should drop it.”

“But I think it's important—”

”It was a dream, Marius. A product of your sleeping mind. You have no idea if she feels that way at all.”

“Do you?” He cant his head to the side, peering past a black mess of curls as he glanced my way. “Have you asked her how she feels? About anything? She could be harboring desires, thinking they are a sinful taboo out here beyond the tower walls. I'm just saying—”

”You talk to much,” I growled at him; I wasn’t comfortable with the mental image of them together. Not that I had any say over who she fell into bed with, but while I was harboring emotions I was still trying to digest, it wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on. “When we get to Highever, take a couple days and go to Ginger’s. Get whatever...this…” I waved my hand vaguely at him, “is, out of your system. I'll go to the Cousland’s alone.”

”And her?”

”Not your concern.”

The Innkeeper returned pushing a cart with a squeaky wheel. “Boys,” she greeted us affectionately, setting the coffee and shot of whiskey in front of Marius, and the tea cup and saucer in front of me. The scent of chamomile wafting to me when she poured the tea into my cup from the kettle. She set the kettle down on the table and left, the cart squeak fading as she crossed the room to the back.

”I think we should explore—” Marius began.

”Look. I've known you a long time, Marius, “ I interrupted, leaning my elbows on the table, to glare at him, “I know how you are with women.”

“She’s not a brothel wench. She’s different. I realize this,” Marius muttered, pouring the whiskey into the coffee, then raised it to his lips to take a cautious sip.

“Miss Meghan?” I asked pointedly about the village girl some years before.

“Oh. Uh,” he stammered, taking another sip of his coffee.

“She was betrothed. A virgin. The wedding was days away...”

“Right. But so sweet. A delicate flower in bloom, an aphrodisiac to the senses.” he poetically intoned.

“Her betrothed wanted nothing to do with her after that,” I reminded him, testing the warmth of the tea before taking a deep sip.

“Well, that’s on him. She was also no virgin,” he grinned, winking at me.

“I didn’t see you stepping in, in his place.”

“Of course not, I couldn’t give her the life she wanted. Kids, house, mabari in the yard…” he shrugged.

Snorting, “She was begging to travel with you. Your brother paid good coin to her father to avoid your lynching.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Marius glanced sideways at me, “You know she married that bloke a year later, right? It was a ruse. Completely her idea. She didn’t want her fiance knowing she had been messing around with the boy next door. She asked me to seduce her, to play along after wards. She didn’t want to explain why she wasn’t a virgin. I was convenient. She used me, as much as I used her. Win-win.” I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

“And Lady Gisele?” An Orlesian noble of some questionable repute to begin with, and rumored she enjoyed the attentions of military men. She was also married to a fiercely, jealous husband.

Marius hums remembering a treasured memory, “Yes,” his hands waving in the air in an hour glass pattern, “an exceptional woman. She did this thing with her tongue—”

Exasperated, I told him, “Her guards threatened to kill you!”

Replying with nonchalance, Marius grinned, “That was her husband’s command. She sent me a note, perfumed pink paper, asking me to meet her later that week.”

Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Did you?”

“Of course not. I like my head where it belongs,” he sipped his drink.

There were other women, names and faces fleeting from memory, “Of all the women, has there been a single one to give you pause?”

“I don’t know why you are interrogating me. Your history with women isn’t much different.”

“I avoid married women and virgins,” I grunted.

“Oh ho! You’re missing out, my friend! Married women are divine creatures. All the passion and none of the responsibility. Send them back to their husbands, satiated and happy.”

Tea cup empty, I pour the remaining tea from the kettle into the cup, “For someone who claims not to have a preference, I’ve never heard about you with any of the other wardens.”

“Oh. Well,… I couldn’t…”

“Why?”

Staring into his coffee cup as though the answers to my question lay in the deep brown liquid, Marius avoided my eyes and said nothing.

“And this is why I want you nowhere near Rhue. You have questionable integrity.”

“If she wants me?” He asked, peaking an eye from behind his curls.

“Turn her down.”

“If I refuse?”

“You know the answer.” That should have been the end of it. We’d known each other for years, his commanding officer for almost as long.

“I think the dream was real,” Marius continued, his voice subdued as he stared at his coffee cup, one hand stroking the calluses of the other, “It was her. I know it. I can’t stop thinking about it, about her. It seemed so… vivid. Real. I forget my dreams when I wake, if I dream at all, but not this time. She’s a mage; mages can do that, right? They have the connection to that fade-shit, and dreams? Why not enter your dreams, too? Fuck you silly, if they wanted…”

As he spoke, I shifted the tea cup, saucer, and kettle to the table beside ours, he didn’t notice, all his attention turned retrospect. In a burst of movement, I rose and lurched toward him, knocking the chair and table aside. The chair fell back with a clatter. The table pitched forward, the coffee cup sliding across wood. Grabbing him by the throat, he squawked, “Oh shit!” as I threw a punch with the other. Knuckles met his nose with a wet crunch. Releasing his neck, Marius crumpled into the chair. The chair burst apart, unable to handle his landing. He grunted when he thumped against the hard floor.

Righting the table, then my chair, I sat back down as though nothing had happened. Marius groaned. He would live. Once I shifting the tea cup, saucer, and kettle back in front of me, the innkeeper scurried to us with a towel, a bowl, and a small bottle of yellowish-green powder.

She paused, large brown eyes blinking between me, than back to Marius, “Everything ok?”

Waving my hand for her to resume, I went back to my tea.

She knelt next to Marius and handed him the small towel to press against his nose. “Spit into the bowl. Pinch here. Blow your nose.” She instructed him quickly. Pouring a small amount of the powder into the palm of her hand, she waited patiently until he had spit out the blood and blown his nose. “Now snort this, a pinch up each nostril.” She held out her palm.

“What is it?” He asked, spitting more blood into the bowl.

“Yarrow. Grows wild all over these hills.”

Watching with renewed interest, I asked “What’s it do?”

“Helps with bleeds. I have sons and they scuffled a lot when they were boys. I would have never expected two grown men —” but she broke off with a huff, “I need to clean this mess.” Once Marius had snorted the powder, she collected everything but the towel, “Keep pressure here till it stops bleeding,” she instructed him, then rose to return to the back.

Picking himself off the ground, Marius kicked the remnants of his chair out of the way, and pulled another from a nearby table before sitting back down.

Dabbing his nose, Marius checked the cloth for blood, “Been awhile since you hit me.”

“Been awhile since you pissed me off.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I got the idea to use Yarrow.  
> https://recipes.hypotheses.org/2326


	17. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, there goes sleep for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1234  
> Smut: No  
> tw: violence?

 

BANGBANGBANG!

“GET UP! HURRY!”

The racket startled me awake. The rain had fallen in sheets all night, lightening crackling across the night sky; while nipping at its heels, thunder rolled. But the pounding on the door wasn’t thunder.

Pushing the covers off, confused where I was and how I got into bed, I glanced up as Duncan blinked blearily in the chair beside the fireplace, and Marius sat up from his bedroll at the foot of the bed. The three of us lurched to our feet, disorientated and dazed.

“They have Auric! They gonna hang ‘im!” a deep voice raged through the wooden door, banging until Duncan answered.

“Wake Marta. She’s next door. We’re coming!” Duncan shifted his attention to Marius, as he gathered his weapon belts, “Pack up and fetch the horses. Alert the soldiers, if they aren’t already. Village is hostile, we’re heading out. Meet us where the hanging is taking place. Rhue, with me.”

After finding my boots against the wall (I didn’t remember placing them there), I pulled them on, “Can’t we just let him hang?”

While cinching his sword belts across his chest, Duncan glanced up at me shaking his head, “Bad precedent. We don’t want village mayors hearing about this and thinking they can string up soldiers.” He had slept in his armor. In the chair. Was that even comfortable?

“I know, but he deserves it,” I huffed, grabbing my bag and staff, prepared to follow Duncan out the door.

“Let one of his higher ups handle it, Rhue.”

I let it go. It wasn’t my place to dole out justice. If I was the praying sort, which I wasn’t, I hoped the Maker called him. The boy was faulty.

“Leaving in this storm? Is that wise?” Marius asked, unusually subdued, his curly hair covering most of his face as he packed up his gear.

Duncan shrugged, “No choice.” Opening the door, we left Marius, and headed downstairs. Marta and two of the female soldiers sharing her room followed us down.

“Where’s Auric now?”Marta asked the soldier waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.

“Village green, Sergeant.”

The six of us ran out into the rain and down the graveled street to the village green. Villagers bundled in hooded cloaks stood around with lanterns. The sky was dark, not even the sun had risen on the horizon. The stars shielded by angry, black clouds. It made this whole scene surreal. Why under the Maker’s kilt would they have a hanging in this weather, before the sun was up? And why a king’s soldier?

Once we arrived, I noticed Auric first, standing on the platform of the gallows with a noose draped loosely around his neck. A man in black hood stood beside him. The Mayor stood on the other side, declaring loudly the soldier’s crimes. The rope was a good fit, it was too bad we were saving him from it.

Huddled close, Duncan and Marta spoke with elaborate hand waving but the storm took their words away from me.

Leaning to murmur in my ear, Duncan asked, “Can you fray the rope?”

“I can burn the whole damn thing down, if you want,” I responded, still annoyed about our obligation to save Auric. Earlier run-ins with him had left me bitter and less than charitable, especially after being dragged out of a sound sleep.

When we were close enough, Duncan called out, “Mayor Green! Halt these proceedings! Lets take this back to your office!”

The Mayor hesitated but ultimately ignored him.

Drawing power from the fade, the intricate dance of magic to tug free what the veil held back, it took only a moment of my magic to fray the rope. If Auric was going to hang, it wouldn’t be for long. From my peripheral, a soldier crept around the back of the gallows and crouched low near the edge, ready to dart forward. If I hadn’t been looking along the underside of the gallows, I wouldn’t have noticed the soldier.

Duncan and Marta ran to the platform, leaving me with the other soldiers. Two villagers with broad chests and pickaxes stepped in their way, barring them from reaching Auric. When I attempted to move closer, angry villagers nudged me to the side. Stepping away from the commotion, I looked for an area where I could slip closer to the structure without immediate notice.

“You don’t want to do this, Mayor Green!” Marta called out, “Allow the Army to handle this!” Even I could hear the threat in her tone.

The Mayor ignored them as he finished reading the trumped up charges against the soldier, “Lazy. Carousing. Theft. Piracy. Rape.” I might not like Auric, but even to my ears, the list of charges sounded absurd. Piracy? Seriously?

Finished, the Mayor called out to the villagers, his arms raised, “What do we do to people who break our laws?”

“Hang ‘em high!” the jeering mass called out in unison.

“I can’t hear you!” The Mayor yelled out, “What do we do to criminals in our law-abiding village?!”

There was no way Duncan or Marta could interrupt, not with the jeering masses, not with the muscle barring their way, and not with the Mayor instigating and fueling the anger in the crowd.

The Mayor and the hooded figure in black stepped away from Auric, away from the trap door in the floor of the gallows. The hooded figure went to the lever, and waited for the Mayor’s signal. The atmosphere was tense. When the Mayor let his hand fall, the hooded figure pulled the lever.

Auric dropped through the floor to a mass of cheering.

The rope snapped, and he landed awkwardly on his feet and down on one knee. Confusion swept the crowd.

Denied their justice, the crowd became incensed.

A figure darted forward, under the scaffolding, dragging Auric to his feet and away from the mob.

Flicking my hand, blue energy arced from my fingertips and spread fire across the beams and down the last shred of rope still hanging. The rain threatened to drown it out. A wave of my wrist and the fire flourished.

Pounding of horse hooves galloped from the north.

The fire blossomed, raging, licking at the wood beams.

The mayor and hooded figure raced for the stairs. Confusion. Yelling. Fire blazing as it danced down the length of the poles.

Alarmed when hands grabbed my waist, until Duncan ordered, “Get up!” helping me to mount Flint, then followed behind me and took up the reins.

The horses and soldiers milled around the villagers, the angry mob melted into frightened villagers. They ran. The ran for the woods. They ran for their own homes. They tripped. They fell. They scattered.

Digging his heels, horse and rider galloped through the village, Auric laughed maniacally, “So long, fuckers!” His battle cry as he fled the village. As tempting as it was to use my magic to unseat him, I didn’t.

The remaining soldiers and wardens trotted the length of the village street, hoofs flicking up mud and gravel, following in the madman’s wake.

Glancing behind us at the gallows, my magical fire blazing despite the rain trying to drown it, the mayor, shoulders hunched, stared at our backs as we rode out of his village. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the scowl on his face.


	18. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rhue gets lost in the woods foraging, the one person she doesn't want to see is the one that finds her first.
> 
> A healing spell ends...weird, leaving those involved confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 3038  
> Smut: No.
> 
> Trigger warning: Threats of violence/rape

 

Stopping at noon, we found a clearing below the goat trail we’d been following, large enough with a fire pit denoting a regular stop for travelers. It also seemed to indicate just how often the main road flooded during the storms. While Duncan spent the morning riding Poppy, I’d spent the morning flipping through a Thedas Flora Guide I snagged before I left the Tower, my magic keeping the book and me dry, while Flint walked sedately behind Ghost.

When Duncan came to help me down from Flint, he frowned, his curious gaze sweeping across my dry hair and clothes. “Rhue?”

“Busy,” my hand waving vaguely toward him as I walked away before he could say more. Taking two steps to follow me, he stopped short as I continued to walk away.

The first two components were easy to locate, the flora guide illustrations and written detail succinct and helpful for a novice field guide. The third was a type of mushroom that grew under downed trees, or so the book said, but the information was less detailed. At least I didn’t need Deep Mushrooms for this. Suppressing a shudder, the thought of going into the Deep Roads for a mushroom wasn’t appealing.

Deep in the Tower’s depths, the dark spaces where rats skittered, I practiced this spell a few times before. However, the storeroom’s dry ingredients produced spell inconsistencies. It was my hope that fresh ingredients would give me better results. Without rats available, maybe I could snare a rabbit for my testing purposes. Or a nug. That might be fun.

As I widened my search for the mushrooms, I walked further and further from the makeshift camp, leaving the miserable soldiers huddled under trees behind. After a bit of walking and finding several other spell components (elfroot, I found elfroot! And the ever rare Prophet’s Laurel!) which I needed for entirely different reasons, eventually I found a downed tree. You’d think they would be everywhere, but this was the first one I’d encountered. Inspecting under it, I found six small caps in a straight line. New growth. Using my herb scythe, I plucked several caps off the decaying tree and dropped them into my pouch next to the other flowers and herbs I had picked.

Sheathing the herb scythe, I was ready to return back to camp, but when I turned around the terrain looked unfamiliar. Retracing my steps past unfamiliar trees and shrubs, I returned to the downed tree stump. Twice more I retraced my steps, and twice more, I returned to the dead tree. A dull ache settled in my belly as Anxiety and Panic arrived to keep me company; two old ‘friends’ that spent a lifetime at my side.

Panic sat on my right shoulder, bemoaning, forever lost!

Ignoring the humanized representations of my emotions, I yelled out for Duncan. Only rain and the crash of thunder answered. Projecting my voice with magic, I called out again.

Anxiety, lounging on my left shoulder, tsked and told me we were too far and the rain too heavy.

The last landmark I recalled was a large, slate grey boulder, if I could find the boulder, I could find the trail back to camp.

Lost!, Panic wailed again, lost to wander these hills! Lost, just another Witch of the Wilds!

An apostate for the templars to hunt down, Anxiety cackled, reminding me what templars do when they found apostates on the run.

Crooning, Panic told me not to worry, a bear or mountain lion will feast on my entrails— long before the templars ever caught me.

As if that was reassuring.

Frantic, I searched to and fro, trying to find this stupid boulder. How hard was it to find a huge fucking rock?

Anxiety agreed, and was probably best if we didn’t find the boulder. It wasn’t like the soldiers or wardens cared about losing a mage.

Panic conceded, the wardens snubbed me! The soldiers ignore me! Everyone hates me… Except, the only soldier—

“No.” It was a firm rebuke, but Panic and Anxiety doubled over with laughter.

Backing up, my eyes desperately searched the landscape until the firm stability of a tree met my back; I promptly sat down, holding my head in my shaky hands, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed, and helpless.

Humanizing the emotions was a tactic Enchanter Irving taught my six-year-old self when I first arrived at the tower. Anything that frightened me, which was everything and everyone, sent me scurrying to hide-y places in cabinets, behind armoires, bookcases, under beds, and anywhere else I could cram my tiny elf body. Irving would eventually find me, coax me out with treats, then begin the process of helping me past the initial fear and help me through my past trauma.

“And show me, what do these emotions feel like, how big is it,” Irving asked, handing me a slate and chalk.

Six-year-old Rhue drew a huge monstrous blob with razor sharp teeth and a bunch of eyes, then a stick figure of myself no larger than the top of its feet.

Irving stared at the drawing, rubbing his bearded chin and humming to himself, taking the childish drawing very seriously. “I see the problem,” he finally said.

“You do?” Because I certainly didn’t.

Explaining, he gave names to the emotions I was feeling, “Anxiety, Panic, Depression, Stress, they are actually very small, but the closer to our ear, the louder they sound, and the bigger we think they are.” Irving wiped my drawing off the slate with a wet cloth, then drew a modest elf girl with my shoulder length hair, and set tiny creatures on each of the shoulders. Showing me the slate, “See? They are right next to your ear, they are loud, but they are actually very small.”

My eight-year-old self merely stared at him, not understanding how this would be helpful to me.

“Our emotions are valid, they are trying to tell us something, but like demons, they are single focused,” Irving continued gently, offering exercises to calm the initial anxiety attack, “Then we figure out what they are trying to tell us. In class, your fire spell went off target and hit another student…”

My ten-year-old self nodded.

“And the anxiety from that experience is telling you…?” Irving prodded.

“Everyone hates me.”

“They don’t hate you. I don’t hate you. But even if you don’t meet someone else’s standards, you are good enough. You matter,” his gentle smile was reassuring to a young elf, even if the rest of the world treated me differently. “What else could you do? When the exercises aren’t helping?”

My twelve year old self shrugged.

“Think about it. You are feeling completely helpless,…” he prodded quietly, when I didn’t answer, Irving continued, “Come speak with me or another instructor you trust. When the answer doesn’t seem immediate to you, talking aloud to another helps.” Irving leaned back in his chair, “That’s not to say an anxiety attack will leave immediately, but the feelings will subside.”

“Do you ever feel Anxiety?” my fourteen-year-old self asked.

“Yes,” Irving replied, leaning forward conspiratorially, “but mindfulness has helped. Breathing exercises have helped. Listening to the emotion and what is making me anxious. Sometimes they squawk for apparently no reason, but that’s where journaling can help.” That’s when he slid my first journal across the table.

The memories faded, but the emotions still remained squawking in my ears. Going through my breathing exercise, I calmed myself down till I could rise without feeling dizzy and shaky. Then I thought about the path coming here, I had gone up, so logically I needed to find a trail going down, next to the large boulder. But maybe the boulder is lower, and not visible here? Digging my fingernails into my palms, I moved forward, searching for the beginning of a trail. When found, the trail whipped back and forth down to a clearing at the bottom, but the trail itself was along a rocky face, and not a boulder at all.

At the bottom, the trail emptied into a small clearing with another trail showing a break in the trees on the far end leading back the way I assumed I had come. Still no sign or sound of the soldiers, horses, or Duncan. How far did I fucking go?

Following the curve, the last bend in the trail, standing at the bottom of the trail was Auric considering the trail until he looked up and saw me. I froze. A glance from side to side, and Auric started to ascend the trail with a vicious smirk. “We’ve been looking for you.”

It took everything in me to hold my ground, “I wasn’t gone long.” My panic attack was subsiding, but finding him at the bottom of the trail made it spike, Anxiety and Panic chittering in my ears trying to distract me. Or warn me.

Laughing, Auric shook his head, “Over an hour, closer to two. The scouts are back.” Walking slowly up the trail toward me, “Whats a few minutes more, huh? Show you what a real man is like.”

“Excuse me?” Was he implying?! Eyes widening, I reflexively stepped back.

Stopping, he cant his head to one side to stare at me, “There’s rumor, and betting, on whether you are fucking them both. You did share a room. They call you the warden’s whore.”

It was a ploy to manipulate me into overreacting. A tactic I had seen templars employ against mages, to give them reason to inflict pain and punishment. It worked less on elves; our nature’s bred into our very bones to cower to humans since the rise of the Tevinter Empire and our subsequent enslavement. Or so my oppressors jeered. Deliberately, my fists bunched, digging my nails into my palms. Personally, I think it made us patient, abiding our time, “You should be thanking me, Auric.”

His eyes narrowed.

“If not for my intervention, orders really, with that rope around your neck, or the gallows you stood on, your current whereabouts would be in a shallow grave.” Crossing my arms, I added, “If they bothered to dig a hole at all. More likely they would have dragged you to an abandoned mine shaft and dropped you in.”

“Bitch,” Auric seethed with anger, resuming his approach toward me, “You’ll thank me when I’m done with you.”

The man approaching me was no templar, and I was no longer in the tower; this truth becoming more and more evident to me with each passing day. Uncrossing my arms, blue energy sparked between my palms; something I never would attempt against my tower handlers.

Faltering, Auric stopped dead in his tracks, staring at my hands, then back at my face when a hint of fear crossed behind his dark eyes. Clenching and releasing his fists, Auric took a step back, then sidestepped back down the trail, keeping one eye on me and another on the trail.

“Rhue!” Smashing through the woods, Duncan called my name.

“Duncan!” Calling out, cautiously watching Auric’s retreat as he entered the clearing, his face darkening further, then he turned and fled.

Crashing through the under bush, Duncan dashed into the clearing, his dark eyes searching when he turned in the direction Auric ran off, rushing to the retreating pound of footsteps.

“Here, Duncan,” releasing the blue glow between my palms, and making my way to the bottom of the trail. With Duncan near, a flood of relief filled me, the ache in my belly finally subsiding.

Duncan whipped around, evident relief in his features, “There you are!” Stumbling through the forest, the agitation clear, but now that he stood before me, he schooled his features to stoicism, “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“I was looking for mushroom caps, the ones that grow on the underside of downed trees.”

Glancing from side to side, Duncan pointed off to the side, “Like that one?”

Approaching, I squatted down and checked the underside, and there in a line along the bark were several larger mushrooms than what I had picked at the top of the ridge, “Oh. I guess I didn’t need to go that far after all.” Reaching for my scythe, I plucked three more and added them to my pouch.

“They’re scattered all over the place, how did you miss them?”

My eyes blinked slowly at him.

“Right. Tower life,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb and finger at the bridge of his nose. “Come on. The scouts are out looking for shelter, they should be back by now. We’re getting nowhere in this storm.”

 

* * *

 

Arriving into the makeshift camp, the soldiers were busily making lean-tos, a fire was already burning with cook pots boiling water at the edges, and firewood scavenged among the undergrowth and sleeping areas under the thick of the trees. They expected to dig in and wait out the storm.

Out of nowhere Marius swept me up into a bear hug, “Found you!”

Laughing, my feet dangling above the ground, as he swung me around once, “I wasn’t far, I was foraging. What happened to your face?” It was the first time I’d seen the black eye and the crook to his nose, he’d been hiding his face under a cowl all day.

Quickly setting me down, Marius turned away, chuckling nervously and shooting looks in Duncan’s direction, “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit,” I stated, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to a stump, I sat down and tugged, “Now kneel. Right here,” I pointed in front of me.

Shooting another glance toward Duncan, “It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Shut up and kneel,” I commanded.

This time he knelt before me, but wouldn’t look at me, dropping his head to the side so the wet strands would cover his face.

Snorting under my breath, I pushed the wet, black strands behind his ears. Blue energy glowed in the palm of my right hand as I gently probed his nose, “None of the soldiers here would have the audacity to punch you. One of the villagers?”

A shadow fell over us as Duncan approached, then squatted beside us to watch.

“Ow,” Marius muttered under his breath with a furtive glance at Duncan, “No, I smacked my head against the bed frame.”

“Uh-huh,” I said skeptically, casting a sideways glance at Duncan, “Tell the bed frame to stop punching you.” Resting thumb atop the tip of Marius’s nose and fanning my fingers across the black eye, I closed my eyes and begin channeling healing energy across his face.

When I opened my eyes, the ugly black and purple healed to his usual tan fleshy tones and his nose was straight again. It was rare to be this close to him, his ice-chip blue eyes looking back at me; butterflies flopped restlessly in the pit of my belly. Sliding my palm across his cheek, I cupped his jaw and smiled.

Sheepishly, he returned the smile and whispered, “Thank you.”

With an overwhelming urge I didn’t think to question, I slid off the stump and knelt before him, searching his eyes, seeking for any interest he might have in me.

“Rhue?” Beside me, Duncan’s curious voice.

Reaching for Duncan's hand, I pulled him closer to me, behind me, against me.

“What is this, Rhue?” Duncan asked, his voice low and husky.

“Hold me?” Neither Marius or I looked away from the other, a change in his expression, he started to understand my request. “Lost, I… panicked. I... I need this. To feel safe again,” stuttering to explain.

Resting his chin on my shoulder, Duncan wrapped an arm around my waist, “Both of us?”

“Yes, please. Kiss me,” my eyes unwavering on Marius'.

The senior warden never said a word, but his actions answered my unspoken question when his hand cupped my face affectionately, and leaned down to tenderly taste my lips.

Behind me, I could feel Duncan’s body stiffen against me, and I turned my head and repeated the request, ‘Kiss me,… please.” The angle was awkward, but he relented, his body sculpting itself against mine; his kiss bordering on possessive, then trailed his lips down my neck.

Offering my lips to Marius once more, he eagerly resumed, deepening the kiss. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he gripped my ass cheek and pulled me roughly against him; no cold armor masked his growing interest. Duncan shifted closer until they pressed against me, sandwiching me between their warm bodies.

All thoughts fled from me, buoyed in their arms, and let the physical touch sustain me, to dispel the lingering anxiety from earlier, the fear of what Auric had intended, and the anger his words caused. It was all washed away with Duncan’s and Marius’ attentions, their kisses, their mostly chaste touches. Not asking for more, they didn’t press, content to shower me with warm affection.

Panting, Duncan whispered hoarsely into my ear, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. To push you away was to protect you, because…” he hesitated, pausing to nuzzle my neck with the scruff of his beard. When he spoke again, the words were so soft, I barely heard him, “I love you, Rhue.”

With the quiet declaration, my eyes flew open. My right hand lightly rested against Marius cheek, he kneeling before me, the last of the healing spell penetrating his skin as the dark black-purple bruise cleared away. My body wasn’t sandwiched between them, I remained sitting on the stump, while Duncan was squatting beside us, his hand in mine. The difference before I started the spell and now, was our labored breathing, as though we had run to Highever and back. Rolling my lower lip into my mouth, there was no lingering taste of their lips on mine.

They opened their eyes, turning their gaze to me for answers, bewildered and confused.

“I-- Shit,” I had no idea what happened, and less on how to explain it. Did they take part in my active imagination? Did this actually happen? Confused, but also afraid to find out, I yanked my hands back as if burned, stood quickly, and darted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **** Note ****  
> I am not a professional counselor. What Rhue does works for me, but I am not advocating that it will work for everyone. Please consult a counselor if you are needing help with anxiety and anxiety related issues. Please take care of yourself. You matter.  
> **** / ***


	19. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhue makes friends with Marta.
> 
> Duncan and Marius chat while waiting. Duncan struggles with his internal dialogue.
> 
> Rhue has an idea that may or may not work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1980  
> Smut: no

 

Approaching the fire, I sat down next to Marta, one of the few soldiers who would actually speak with me. Smiling, I was hoping to socialize to avoid thinking about what happened with the two wardens.

“Rhue, you’re back. The wardens were afraid you ran off,” she smiled, removing one of the pots from the fire pit and set it out to cool off.

“I didn’t go far, I was foraging. What’s with the water?”

“Boiling water down for drinking,” the answer quick as delight shone from her eyes, “Foraging? That’s great! My grandma was our village hedge witch, taught me quite a bit growing up. What were you looking for?”

“Mushrooms took me away from the group,” I told her as I dragged out my treasure of herbs, flowers, and mushroom caps. “Hedge witch? Was she a mage?”

Winking at me, Marta peered down at my forage findings, “Let me see those?” Voice concerned, pointing to the small caps in the pile on my lap. Handing one to her, Marta turned it over to check under the cap, “You didn’t plan on eating these, did you?”

“Not as food, part of a spell, but ingesting, yes.”

Shaking her head, Marta warned me, “Oh no. You don’t want to eat these. They are the poisonous type.” She picked up the larger variety and showed me the differences under the cap, “Be careful, because this poisonous one looks like it’s cousin, but if you check under the caps, you can tell them apart. See the gills? The small one, the gills remain white and are attached to the stalk. While the big one, the gills have gone dark brown and attached to the underside of the cap.”

Pulling out my flora guide, I went to the marked page, and wrote down in the margins what she told me, sketching the difference. “And you’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely one hundred percent. Granny would take us out, me and my sisters, and forage for mushrooms and would show us the different types. There are uses for the poisonous types, but best for those wanting to coat their blades.”

“Had I known, you could have come with me,” I told her as I gathered up the foraged goodies, I put all but the poisonous back into my pouch. The poisonous mushrooms went into a separate pouch by themselves.

“Not immediately, but sure, I would be happy to help you out,” Marta agreed. “So, back in the village,” she thumbed the direction of the village we left, “the fire? That was you?”

Shrugging, “Yeah, I don’t know why. Just thought there needed to be a further distraction, something else for the villagers to focus on, to break up their mob mentality. It turned into chaos.”

Laughing, Marta shook her head, “Well, I never would have thought to set the whole thing on fire.”

“Do you intend to report the incident?”

“Are you asking me if I intend to report Auric to our higher ups?” The Sergeant side eyed me. Reaching for the pot she had removed to cool off, she touched the surface briefly, deemed it safe, then started pouring the water into one of the flasks she’d retrieved from the other side of her.

“If you report Auric, you’ll need to report the village and what they did,” I offered cautiously, “I guess I just feel bad for the villagers. They’re simple folk. What will the army do with them?”

“You’re a good sort, Rhue, I’ll try to keep as many of their actions out of the report.” Thinking for a moment, she shrugged, “Depends on if the Captain is in a good mood or not, I guess, “she said, glancing at me, “Besides, my orders are clear and direct from the king, accompany the grey wardens. Do not deviate. It won’t be us going back there.”

* * *

 

_It was never my intention to tell her that._

My thoughts flick back to her, while I stood on the ridge overlooking the camp, my focus cast in the direction the last scout had gone and awaited her return, my gaze trying to pierce the camouflaging mists. Good news meant spending the rest of the storm dry before we moved on to Highever. Bad news, and we risked illnesses, predators, and the possibility of irreparable damage to the feet requiring amputation.

_Why did I tell her that? Did I mean it?_

The sound of crunching boots alerted me to someone behind me. Casting a glance in that direction, Marius came up beside me.

“You love her,” more a statement then question as he glanced at me before shifting his gaze to the misty horizon.

“This topic is not up for discussion.”

Marius grunted.

The silence stretched between us, and I was hoping that was an end to that topic.

_I meant every word. No doubt in my mind._

“I’d like to talk about it,” Marius broke the silence.

“And ruin the healing job she did on your nose?”

Taking a side-step away from me, Marius glanced at me, “You don’t need to talk. I just have something to say.”

Glancing at him, and visually measuring the short distance, then returned my attention to the goat trail, “I can still reach you.”

Marius sighed.

While the other warden went back to silence, it allowed me to think about what happened with her, and then quickly shove it in a mental box; I’d rather think about anything else than that. Highever; the plan was to visit Teryn Cousland. According to my sources, there were tournaments this week. It was rumored Ser Gilmore and Ser Jory would be there.

_Why would I admit that? It was too soon._

Some years ago, I’d watched Ser Gilmore in a tournament in the Free Marches, a rising star with some promising abilities. He’d been knighted since then.

_No, no, no. It was a clean break! To protect her, it needed to end._

The Taryn’s children were both of the right age for recruitment as well, and I hoped to check their abilities before Cousland started the long march south.

_And now it was a complete mess! What now?!_

In Denerim, Valendrian proved a good ally in finding potential recruits within the alienage. City elves excelled when given a chance to prove themselves.

_It would be impossible to go back on that. Fuck._

Denerim’s warehouse; it was also a good time to check storage for supplies before leaving the capital. Last minute preparations before heading to Ostagar; on the way, I was hoping to run into a Dalish clan along the edge of the Brecilian Forest. Dalish archer would be an excellent addition.

“You’re good for each other.”

“What?” The sound of Marius’ voice derailed my train of thought.

“You’re good for each other, you and Rhue. She needs you, probably as much as you need her. After the Joining, if she survives, there would be nothing stopping you or her from resuming.”

A low mirthless laugh, “And your part? You weren’t exactly sitting idle.” There was a moment of jealousy, at least until she made it clear her interests weren’t single focused, and that emotion just… drained away.

“Me?” Marius laughs, “I’m the fun one. Good for a bit of rough and tumble, but ultimately expendable,” he kept his tone light, but there was a bitterness underneath.

“You don’t want more?” Glancing at him, my eyes slid past him and down the hill where she was sitting with Marta, the two women with their heads together, talking animatedly with their hands. Watching her pulled a smile across my lips.

“Oh you know me, brothel wenches and married women. I wouldn’t know what to do with ‘something more’.”

The words rung true, but there was a barely perceptive underlying lie. Grunting, I resumed my vigil when the mists parted to a horse and rider trotting down the trail.

* * *

 

 

“Sergeant, good news an’ bad.”The scout stood beside her horse with her hand on the reins, “Found a cave, an’ it looks large enough, but it already gots a resident,” she frowned, glancing at the others, “A bear an’ her three cubs. Wan’ me to go back out an’ look some more?”

Sighing, Marta shook her head, “No, we should make due with what we have here. There’s a small clearing not far from here where we can corral the horses while we make use of the trees as part of our shelter.”

“Kill the bear?” Auric offered, “Not good for meat, but skin it and take it to the tanner when we return to Highever.”

“Not exactly ideal.” Marta shook her head, “She was there first and unless we were going to stay for weeks or months, not worth the hassle just to wait out the storm.”

“I might be able to talk to the bear, ask her to leave,” I offered quietly.

Laughter met my words, Auric guffawing and slapping his leg in mirth, “She expects to just walk up to a bear and have a conversation? Batty mage!” A couple other soldiers laughed with him.

My cheeks and the tips of my ears grew warm the more they laughed.

Duncan held up his hand to silence the detractors and looked askance at me, “You can do that? Enchanter Irving never mentioned that skill to me.”

“I never told him.” The snickering behind me was making me uncomfortable.

Duncan pulled me aside, Marius following close behind, “Explain,” I could see the wheels turning in his head on how he could put that skill to use.

“I mean, I was learning, but never told him because I had mixed results.” But now that I thought of it, did he know? If I was having a panic attack, he usually found me in a short amount of time, yet when I slipped down to the lower levels, I could be down there for hours without anyone looking for me.

“Mixed results,” Duncan peered at me, “What animals were you practicing on? What are your chances with a bear?”

Shrugging, I glanced between the two wardens, “I practiced on rats.”

Duncan blinked at me, “You talked to … rats? What could you possibly learn from rats?”

“How close do you need to be?” Marius with the important question.

“Well, a form of communication. They still squeak. Besides, they are actually intelligent creatures,” my back straightened as I defended the small creatures. Once I explained what I knew to be true from my successful experiments, and how close I needed to be, Marius rounded on Duncan, “We’re not letting her do this.”

“Why not, if it doesn’t work, we get her out of there.”

“No, this is a bad idea. The bear will maul her.”

The more they talked over me like I wasn’t there, l the angrier I got, “I’m doing it.”

“We stab the bear.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we’re trying to avoid because the cubs?”

“Hello! I’m doing this.”

“Put her on Flint so she can get close.”

“You have more confidence in your horse than I do in mine that close to a bear!”

Shaking my head, “No, I can’t do that. The horse would drown out the bear.”

Marius barely glanced back at me, then back to Duncan.

“We could build a platform for her to stand on and push it forward; near the bear, but too high to reach.”

Rolling my eyes so hard I thought they would roll out of my head, “You two can stand here and argue all night. In the meantime, I’m doing this with or without you,” it was far more bravado than I actually felt as I turned around and went back to Marta and the scout. I could feel the queasiness in my stomach already, “It’s getting late, if we’re going to do this, lets do it now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only 50% sure about the mushrooms since I had to research it. But it is true that some poisonous mushrooms try to mimic their tasty cousins.
> 
> Rats ARE intelligent. Fight me.


	20. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Rhue should have listened to her Warden-Commander and Senior Warden. This is what happens when not enough testing is done on half baked ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1915  
> Smut: no
> 
> Edit: I added about 85 words near the beginning, in regards to Marius. Not terribly important but I felt it needed to be added.

 

Duncan and Marius paced by me, passing each other, each trying to come up with another reason why this plan of mine was madness, the commander swayed by the senior warden’s arguments before we ever left the makeshift camp. It boiled down to the lack of keeping me safe under short notice. I could certainly understand their hesitance, but I would be spending the rest of my life battling darkspawn, for fuck’s sake.

By the time I reached my rock overlooking the cave entrance, I’d tuned them out, but still they paced, talking more to each other now that I no longer paid them any heed. Settled into a comfortable position on the large rock, I concentrate on the apprentice’s wood mortar and pestle, mixing the spell components, and walking myself through my actions and reactions until I felt more confident about how this would end. Naturally there would be unexpected responses, animals could be unpredictable, and I knew next to nothing about bear behavior.

“I’m ready.”

The two wardens stopped their pacing, Duncan with his hand on his sword hilt, his knuckles white, while Marius turned to me, rubbing the heel of his left hand with the thumb of his other hand.

“We cannot talk you out of this,” Duncan approached me, more statement than question, resigned to my decision.

Shaking my head, “No, we’ve been over this.” Hovering my hand over the wood bowl, I infused the green, liquid mash with magic, reciting the words exactly as the book instructed. Closing the book, I shoved it back into my pack. Hopping down from the rock, I took the mortar and spooned the paste into my mouth. It went down…weird. It slithered down my throat and settled in my belly like a living thing. I nearly gagged. Then the colors receded and changed. The colors changing usually happened ten minutes after I had swallowed the mash.

“And now?” He asked, watching my face with trepidation.

“It’ll take a moment for this to kick in.” Usually thirty minutes. Setting the mortar back on the rock, I approached Duncan and slipped my hands into his gauntlets, whispering, “Thank you for giving a shit about me,” the comment startled him, “I don’t always know how to respond to… kindness.” Images stacked one atop of the other: him holding me close, his touch soft and kisses heated; another with his sword drawn, me behind him with hands ablaze in magic; the third mourning a loss over a mound of dirt. I shook my head to clear the overlapping images. Perhaps I underestimated how quickly raw ingredients would start to work. That wasn’t thirty minutes.

“You’re not the first elven mage to express similar sentiments,” he mused softly, wrapping an arm around me, and pressing his lips to my forehead, “I would say it's a little more complicated than that,” he released me, and I stepped away.

Lifting my arms up, Marius stepped in, and pulled me up into a hug with my feet dangling off the ground, “We’re right behind you, kitten,” and pressed a kiss to my temple before setting me back down on my feet. Another three images stacked across his face in quick succession; he stood at a fork in the road, nothing more than an animal trail to the left with a need that felt like home. Whereas the right hand path was well worn but he hesitated to continue in that direction. The second image he stood in protective stance but stared at his feet, unsure of himself. The third image of him was on his knees at a mound of dirt, his hand over his face.

A wave of dizziness hit me and I wobbled. Marius was quick to steady me, “You ok?”

“Yeah. It’s showtime.”

Turning away from them, I grabbed my staff, slung my bag across my back, and turned my attention to the cave. The fact about the green sludge, the recipe was from an old Tevene primer meant to help students speak with spirits in the fade without actually falling asleep and dreaming. It was an old method, and I happened upon it by happenstance. Chantry teachings were adamantly against speaking with spirits and demons, however it was the notes scribbled in the margins by some ancient student who communicated with a cat that piqued my interest.

When I cast a glance over my shoulder, the two wardens watched the cave warily. Duncan nodded, “We’re right here,” the pair of them drawing their swords.

Shooting them a smile, I started my chants. Unfortunately, it was necessary to release the spell keeping me dry, so now the rain felt like it was pelting me with tiny hammers. Fucking rain, anyway. The first spell was for protection, a blue wave of energy washing over my body from head to foot. The splash radius of the spell washed over the two wardens guarding me. The second was a precaution I hoped I wouldn’t need, a fear spell in case the bear attacked me.

The herbal concoction forced the mind down to a light meditative state, that place between waking and sleeping. A full awake mind would rebel against listening to animals communicate. Logic and critical reasoning resisting the very idea. Connecting the subconscious and conscious, a meditative, intuitive mind connected both, therefore, more open to listening.

Walking down the hill toward the cave, the mother bear was at the entrance sniffing the air. Her dark brown fur thick for the winter, her coat gleaming from the rain, but her body thin from hibernation, and her recent pregnancy. She dug for tubers while keeping a wary eye on the humanoids, her three small cubs playing around her feet. The wardens followed me, but when I raised my hand, they stopped, and allowed me to proceed closer.

The problem with taking an herbal concoction to compel the mind to a meditative wave, is that it slows down reflexes. Hence, the fear spell. If she attacked me, the spell will induce fear until she ran blindly away, allowing the wardens time to haul me back behind them, and out of her way. If she charged after that, the army was in the tree line waiting for the signal to attack.

Lifting her head, she looked at me.

Leaning heavily on my staff, I stopped, watching her warily with heavy-lidded eyes cast somewhere at her feet as I held out my hand.

She sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring with each inward breathe.

The images I worked on earlier were a simple series: _her and her three cubs; her and her cubs leave the cave to look for another cave; the humans and horses marching into the cave; the clouds parting and the sun shining; the humans and horses marching out of the cave and leaving_ ; and _her and her cubs returning to the cave._

The momma bear nudged a nose against one of her cubs, pushing them into the cave. Once satisfied when they toddled into the cave to wait for her, she meandered closer to me, her agitation clear as she paced from side to side, blowing hot air from her mouth that sounded like grumbling.

An image came to me: _myself with three small clones of myself._ It felt like a question. She wanted to know if I had cubs, too.

Shaking my head, but then realized she wouldn’t know that expression, I returned the image: _myself alone without the ‘cubs’._

She sniffed the air. _Two wardens with three small clones each._ My intuition translated the question asking if the wardens had cubs.

I shook my head again, returning an image: _two grown men._ Adding a second image: _the three of us, and a dozen humans behind us in the trees._

The bear glanced toward the tree line, her head tilted up to the wind and took a deep breathe. Shaking her shaggy head, she stood on hind legs, snorting as she breathed deeply. Dropping back down to all four legs, she charged toward me, but then stopped, growling low at me.

Afraid of that, my intuition translated her displeasure with the request, her opinion clear: her cubs needed the cave more than we did.

_A deer carcass, half eaten as the humans walked away from it, leaving it for the bear and her cubs._

_Bear and cubs remain in cave._

_The bear finding a different cave. Humans enter the big cave. The humans leave a partial deer carcass when the sun shines._

_Bear chews on elf innards as cubs eat limbs._

She roared, charging me, a lumbering gallop that ate up the distance between us. Standing my ground, my mind too sluggish to comprehend the immediate danger.

Duncan and Marius cried out in alarm.

Halting her massive bulk, her face a foot from mine. She roared, spittle flying into my face as I stared at large, pointy teeth. Scrunching my nose, I waved my hand before my nose, the stench of rotten meat and something else hitting my face with it’s putrid stench.

Rising up on hind legs, she rose above me a good seven feet tall! Stepping back, my mind finally deciding it needed to react to an apex predator in my face, my head tilted back as she reached her full height. A massive paw the size of my face swung at me. Pain erupted in my shoulder. A flare of chaotic energy in a kaleidoscope of colors erupted. My feet left the ground. Weightless.

It was the landing that sucked, a hard thud on my side, knocking the wind out of me.

Groaning, I rolled onto my back. Dazed, the world tilted on its axis. Blocking the grey sky from my view, Duncan and Marius hovered over me with worried faces, then they split in three.

“You’re bleeding,” all three Duncan’s told me.

Their touch, all six of them checking wounds. More images flashed through my mind, seeing my bedraggled body in their vision.

“No!” I lurched unsteadily to my feet, “Don’t touch me!” Finding my staff only a few feet away, I picked it up before stumbling to the cave entrance. Images flashed through my mind, but I struggled with their meaning. Entering the cave, a white glow flared from the crystal in my staff to light my way, then the stench assaulting my nostrils. Three little furry bodies ambushed my legs with cries of distress. From the brief glance, the cave was massive.

Picking up the smallest, my shoulder screamed in pain, forcing me to move the cub to the other arm. Hobbling out of the cave, the other two followed me into the rain. The mother bear had raced away from the cave in fear the moment the spell connected, but now she waited some distance from the entrance, distressed grunts as she called for her little ones.

_Deer carcass at threshold of cave. Sun shines, humans leave._

_A deer carcass on the threshold of the cave. Humans and horses leave when the sun shines._

We agreed. Setting the cub down, I watched the three of them bound off to their mother. The one I held stopped midway, curious brown eyes looking back at me.

_Small bear nose touches elf nose._

_My elf nose touches the bear cub nose._

The cub turned and ran after its siblings.

Sinking to my knees, my vision swam.

“Rhue!” A blur of motion from my peripheral.

Colors faded. Darkness narrowed my vision. I slumped to the ground. Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one.


	21. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memory fragments.  
> I don't know if you could call these defining moments for Rhue, Duncan, and Marius, but they are moments from their past that defines an aspect of their present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 5423 (I'm so sorry, I considered breaking this up into thirds, but I needed it to stay together for the next chapter to flow right.)  
> Smut: A bit, a smattering of sexiness, implied anal, light bondage, and fade-to-blacks. m/m, m/f, and m/m/f
> 
> Rhue: TW: abuse/child abuse, blood, harm  
> Duncan: m/m mention, nudity  
> Marius: m/f smattering of sexiness, mention of m/m/f.

 

“You’re a big girl now. Six years old,” Papae told me as Mamae handed the empty basket to me. His breath stunk of whiskey, so I was happy to leave. Everything upset him when he stunk of whiskey.

“Take your time, pumpkin,” Mamae knelt and helped me with the laces on my jacket, then kissed my brow, “You don’t want to drop the bread.”

“Wait. Where’s Wolfie?!” I asked, patting my pockets trying to find my little stuffed animal Mamae had sewn for me.

From within her pocket, she handed the small grey wolf shaped stuffed animal and handed him to me, “Remember? I washed him, da’len.”

“Thank you, mamae!” I wrapped my arms around her neck and she gave me a quick squeeze.

Papae sat in the chair, his eyes bleary and red as he drank from the tin container that held his whiskey. He wasn’t violent yet. Maybe today he wouldn’t.

Taking the basket and making sure Wolfie was snug in my pocket, I skipped down the street, kicking pebbles and watching how far they would go. When I arrived to Hahren Threhon’s, a line of elves waited while several Chantry Sisters handed out loaves of bread under the watchful eyes of the Templars.

When it was my turn, the young Sister knelt down to add the loaf to the basket, “Where is your mother, young one?”

“Her and papae are at home. Papae is drunk again.”

“Oh.” The sister looked uncomfortable, her eyes seeking out Hahren as she rose to hand bread to the next elf in line.

“Rhunae?” Hahren stopped me, pressing his palms against his knees, “How are your parents, da’len?”

“Papae is drunk again. I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Why don’t you deliver the bread, then let your mamae know you’re both invited to come over tonight for the ladies meeting? I’ll be sure to save a sweet for you.”

Ladies meeting? I didn’t know the ladies were meeting. “Ok hahren!”

Three different times, one of the ladies from the alienage stopped to talk to me, one commenting about how big I was to be carrying the weekly bread home. Puffing out my chest, I was very proud of myself.

Walking back with my basket, I whistled tunelessly. The boy tending the bucket at the well asked, “Da’len, did you want some water?”

Nodding, I waited as the older boy turned the handle to bring the bucket up and handed me a tin cup. Dipping the cup into the bucket, I drank from it before handing it back to him. “Ma serannas, lethallin!”

“Sathem, da’len.”

Dragging my feet each step of the way, I was getting close to home as I continued down the lane back to the flat. When I arrived outside, I could hear mamae bubbling and sobbing inside. Dropping the basket, I ran for our home and rushed into the flat where my mamae’s face, bloodied and ruined from the belt my papae wielded. Standing over her, he raised his fist to swing the belt at her again. Whatever fear I held of Papae and his belt, drained the moment I saw mamae’s bloodied face.

Something dark snapped inside me.

It flooded through me, filling me from the inside, until I thought I would burst.

Like a dam. Like a hurricane.

The power of nature felt like it was pulling me apart, erupting inside me, like lava filing my veins until I felt like I was on fire. Something I couldn’t control. Something like fire and wind and ice and electricity. It felt like it turned me inside out and I became. It.

What felt like an eternity took mere seconds.

The force inside clawed itself out in a surge of mana and wind, slamming papae against the far wall away from mamae. Whatever power I wielded left me. I ran to her side.

“Mamae! Mamae!” Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed into her arms.

“Rhunae, Rhunae, I’m ok. It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything will be ok, da’len.”

“But you’re hurt, mamae!” blubbering, my tiny hands touching her bloody face.

“I’LL SHOW YOU HURT, FOOL GIRL!” Before I could turn around to see papae standing over us like a menacing nightmare demon, his belt buckle slapped across my back tearing through fabric and skin. I screamed. While she tried to protect me, he dragged me away from mamae by my hair, yanked me into the next room, and slammed the door.

I didn’t stop screaming, and the lashings didn’t end, until I passed out from the pain.

 

 

When I woke, metal cuffs bound my wrists and three templars stood over me. My skin felt flushed and cool at once, my back felt wet and sticky, and my sides hurt something awful. Mamae sobbed in the arms of her sister while my papae paced the street in front of a human I’d never seen before, his hands and arms animated as he spoke furiously to the patient human. The human eventually shook his head, then turned to leave, two armored and armed men following in his wake.

Papae stormed over to us, fury writ across his face, “This is your fault, Liani! Lord Leopold would have paid us gold to take her into his service!”

Mamae sobbed in ma’isa’s arms while her sister scolded him, “She’s a mage, Zatrel. She belongs to the Circle now.”

Pointing a finger at her, “It’s your family that cursed us! Last year it was your sister’s kid!”

“Mamae? What’s happening, mamae?”

Ma’isa tried to draw mamae away but when she saw I was awake, she sobbed all the harder, “Rhunae! Rhunae! This is better for you. I promise.”

A cage sitting on the back end of the cart rumbled down the lane until the driver pulled the horses to stop in front of our flat. One of the Templars standing nearest me hoisted me up and tossed me into the cage like a raggedy doll and closed the door. Pain seared through me like white heat and I screamed. Ignoring my sobs, the three of them followed the cart as it trundled through the alienage. Friends and neighbors lined the street, heads bowed or turned away when I glanced toward them.

“Mamae!!” I sobbed, my hand reaching out of the cage, “I don’t wanna go, Mamae! Please don’t make me go!”

Mamae darted out of ma’isa’s arms and ran after the cart, “Rhunae!” She pressed Wolfie into my hand, “Hide it, my love. Remember me.”

The templar pulled her away from the cage and tossed her to the side of the road, “Move along, elf.” She crumpled on the ground. Ma’isa ran forward and dragged mamae back to the flat. Shoving the stuffed wolf into my pocket as far down as I could, I watched the alienage fall away as I passed over the threshold of the gate into Highever. I never left the alienage before and when I realized I would never return I sobbed in earnest.

 

 

I don’t remember traveling after we left Highever, I was feverish and cold and pain jolted through me every time a wheel hit a bump. When I could no longer see mamae, I curled up at the bottom of the cage and sobbed until exhaustion won.

 

When the cart reached the shores of Lake Calenhad, I was still feverish and my back felt raw and stung with every movement the cart made on the rutted roads. My eyes felt heavy as I opened them, my limbs felt week, the chill breeze glaringly cold against my skin. The templar ordered me out, but when I didn’t move, he yanked me out and shoved me into the bottom of a boat. Whimpering, my vision swam with the pain.

 

I might have thrown up crossing the lake, but it just tasted like bile. The templar promptly pushed my face over the side of the boat until all I saw was green and the water skimming past the boat. I briefly wondered if they would let me fall in.

 

When we arrived, the templar hauled me out of the boat and shoved me onto the ground. More templars stood guard, but an old wizened face peered through the pain and cold and heat and touched my shoulder. He had a kind face.

“Take her to the infirmary.”

“She needs to be checked in first, Irving.”

“She wont make it in her state, Greagoir. How she survived the journey is a miracle only the Maker could conceive.”

“Send a healer to the check-in cells. If she has anything from one of those damned alienages, she could infect us all.”

“Apprentice, go find Wynne. Tell her it’s urgent.”

“Yes, First Enchanter.”

A templar dragged me through a huge door, when I looked up, it went on forever and ever and ever. When it shut, it clanged with a finality that felt like death. The same templar — or perhaps it was a different one, they all had metal heads — dragged me down a hallway and tossed me into a cell and locked it before walking away.

 

 

When I opened my eyes again, I heard the one called Greagoir and the one called Irving speaking, but they were too far away to understand what they were saying. I heard my name.

 

 

A kind woman pressed her warm hand across my brow. Warmth spread through me, knitting my broken skin and bones, taking away the pain. I slumped against the ground when she finished. My stomach growled.

“Enchanter Irving, she needs rest and food. I don’t think she’s eaten a thing in days. Soup until she regains her appetite.”

“Thank you, Wynne. You may return to your duties now.”

 

 

“Psst. PSST.”

Opening my eyes, it was dark, only a single candle on a table on the other side of the bars illuminated this part of the hallway.

“Psst. You awake?” a hoarse whisper called out from the other side of the wall, in the cell beside mine.

“Yes. Who are you?” I asked aloud.

“Shhh! You don’t want templars coming back here,” The hoarse whisper whined.

“Sorry,” I whispered back.

“There’s food in front of your cell. You should eat it before the rats get to it,” the boy whispered.

“Ma serannas.”

“What?”

“Thank you.” Crawling forward, I found the bowl of plain broth and drank it down. It could barely pass as a soup, more of a flavored water. When I set the empty wood bowl outside of my cell, I whispered, “What’s your name? Do you know where we are?”

“I’m Jowan. I came in a week ago. We’re at Kinloch Hold. These cells, they’re called kor-en-teen, kwor-en-teen. Something like that. I guess. What’s your name?”

“I never heard of Kinloch Hold. I don’t know what a korenteen is either,” I whispered, “I’m Rhunae. I’m from the Highever alienage.”

“An elf!” Jowan whispered startled, “I’ve not seen an elf up close.”

“You still haven’t,” I pointed out, since I still didn’t know what Jowan looked like.

“Well, when we get out of here, we should be best friends,” he said. “I never had a best friend before.”

“Me either.”

“Then it’s settled. We’re best friends now.”

 

 

 

“Duncan. You don’t have to leave.”

The voice behind me was a husky growl that did things to me, spreading a shiver down my spine while goose bumps prickled my arms, “I thought you were asleep,” I mumbled over my shoulder.

“I was resting. It’s been awhile since someone could keep up with me,” movement, the bed creaked under his weight.

Chuckling, I shook my head, “Yes, but you have terrible taste in women.” If I could find my clothes, I could leave before it turned awkward. Would he be like the women I bed, wanting to know the meaning of the encounter, if they would see me again? This was a first, not with the notion of men together, there was Julien and Nicolas, afterall, but a first time for me.

“Besides, I thought I could show you something.”

Glancing over my shoulder, Riordan was on his side, his head propped up by his hand, his elbow digging into the mattress. His black hair mussed from my hands dragging through it earlier, half lidded blue eyes watching me, the light from the flickering candle left this side of him in shadow, “Show me what?”

“A technique. Something to take with you to future encounters.”

The comment threw me; he expected nothing after we parted? First offended, then wondered if there was something wrong with me; no one else complained about my performance before.

Chuckling, Riordan tapped the bed beside him, “The look you are giving me. Come back to bed, Duncan. I leave in the morning, a ship headed to Val Royeaux, but my final destination is Montsimmard. Let’s indulge ourselves in carnal pleasure before duty calls me back to her grim side. You look confused?”

Shaking my head, I lay back down on my side, propping my head on my elbow to look at him, all thoughts of finding my clothes forgotten, “I had no idea you were leaving. Fereldan won’t be the same without you.”

“Commander Polara didn’t tell you? No? Ahh, well, my friend, it’s been a pleasure, now in more ways,” his grin lascivious compared to his usual dour expression.

My cheeks flushed when he directed that look at me. Reaching for me, he pulled me close for a lingering kiss full of promises that would end the moment the sun rose.

“Keep the beard, Duncan, it looks good on you,” Riordan said, fondly stroking the new whiskers I’d been growing little less than a year. He shifted closer, sliding his leg over mine, and draping his arm across my waist while his fingers drew circles across the skin of my back, “Montsimmard sent word, I received the letter only a couple days ago. Which brings me to asking for a favor.”

It was a strange sort of intimacy, like we should be sharing a pint down in the common room, but otherwise nude and intimate in touch. It was a side of Riordan I’d never seen, but I found myself enjoying. It was too bad he was leaving. A few more evenings like this would make the bleak Fereldan winter bearable.

“My brother is in Highever still, working at the docks for a cousin.” Riordan pursed his lips, a deep frown that etched all the way across his forehead, “When our parents died, it was up to me to raise him, keep him fed. He’s fifteen now, but I worry for him. Without me around to keep him in line, I’m afraid he might fall into with the bad sort.”

Chuckling, “So, what you are saying, he reminds you of me.”

Laughing, Riordan grinned, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Why don’t you take him with you?”

“He refused,” Riordan sighed in resignation, “Marius said he would be on the first ship back to Highever if I forced him to go to Orlais. Absolutely hates the idea of being anywhere near an Orlesian.”

“Well, I certainly can’t blame him,” I said with a snicker, “but I’ll keep an eye on him. If he’s anything like me, he’ll be conscripted into the Wardens before too long.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Don’t get me wrong, I thrive more as a Grey Warden than I ever did as a sell-sword, but Marius, he needs something else.”

“As second in command, my presence in Denerim isn’t required. After I see you off at the docks, I’ll ride for Highever. I might have some contacts that will remove him off the docks and onto a ship.”

With only little more said about Marius, Riordan shifted the conversation back to what he wanted to show me, “Talk is eating the night away. Come, lay on your belly, and stick that ass up. I will show you secrets that will have men and women alike fawning for your attentions long after you leave them satisfied.”

Initially dubious, he soon put my fears and skepticism to rest.

 

 

True to my word, the following morning, I rode west for Highever after Riordan bordered the ship for Val Royeaux. Commander Polara wasn’t pleased with my decision, but finally agreed after an hour of arguing. Making the move to Highever was easy, the Couslands surprisingly amiable after the birth of their daughter, and offered space within their castle, which allowed me to conduct Grey Warden business, and bunk in the room next door. It was also closer to Redcliff, a stopping point to check on Alistair before heading to Orzammar, should I need to with a new recruit.

Finding Marius a job on a ship was easy, it was keeping him out of trouble when he was in Highever’s harbor that proved more difficult. The Captain of the Lucky Lady owed me a favor, and could keep the kid deterred from trouble in foreign ports, but the moment Marius stepped foot in Highever, he slipped away to find his friends. Knowing the type from my teens, I knew where to find him, and drag him back to his responsibilities.

When Polara disappeared, my duties returned me to Denerim where I ascended to her role as Commander. My connections inconspicuously helped Marius shift job duties to another ship that docked out of Denerim, allowing me to continue my vigilance for Riordan.

Riordan wrote monthly to Marius and me in the beginning, but once Marius reached his majority, the letters to me started to wane. It was that tiny connection to Riordan which kept me hopeful that one day he would return to Denerim. Our letters were formal, never speaking of our night together, so I never asked him to return, and he never asked if he had a place in the fledgling Grey Wardens of Fereldan. Perhaps that was my mistake not pressing the issue, allowing something that could-be slip away from me.

Shortly after Marius turned eighteen, I received a letter from the Captain of the Guard of Highever. Once I read the letter, I crumpled the page and sighed.

A raven was sent to Montsimmard.

 

 

> _Riordan. M in H prison. Murder. Going now. D._

My Second was capable of handling affairs in Denerim until I returned from the Deep Roads with Marius. If I didn’t strangle him first.

 

 

*** * * [Marius] * * ***

 

Keeping to the shadows, I lost Duncan twice, making wrong turns on these Maker-damned Denerim streets. In Highever — but I wasn’t in Highever anymore, I was a warden, exchanging my sea-legs for the taint to avoid a hangman’s noose.

My brother was livid, but of course he was, because I could never reach his level of perfection. Instead, I was a constant burden once our parents died, while opportunities showered upon him at every tournament he competed, they all became rejected disappointments. Riordan never said anything about it, not to me anyway. Then foist me on Duncan when he grew too annoyed with me. At least he finally returned to Montsimmard. The three months of him constantly glaring over my shoulder were nerve wrecking, while the shared laughter and casual drinking of the two friends reminded me of how much I did not belong.

“Marius,” Duncan had pulled me aside to speak with me several months back, his tone serious, my brother not far away glowering, “As much as I would like to see you and your brother reconcile your differences,” he said, “if you’d like, I can send you off on patrol instead. King Maric is sending a patrol out to check each of the known entrances into the Deep Roads, they would be glad to have you.” He offered me the option to dismiss me from under my brother’s watchful eye and I took it. When I returned from duty, I learned they had traveled to Redcliff to visit the Arl. Figures.

Nearly losing Duncan a third time in these blighted warrens and alleyways, it took me a moment to realize where I stood. Not far from where the marketplace stalls, the alienage gates locked up for the night, and the store fronts; the warehouse was not far away. Taking a gamble, I snuck between two stores I knew emptied me into the alleyway leading to the warehouse.

A young woman close to my age walked steadily down the street, lantern in front of her, her eyes darting from side to side. As she passed I noticed the points of her ears. _A little late to be out, elf?_ I thought curiously. She couldn’t be up to any good this late.

A shadow detached itself from the warehouse face, the door opening to reveal Duncan’s face from the light within, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“Leaving an alienage at night isn’t exactly easy, you know,” she snapped, pushing past him into the room beyond.

Duncan scanned the otherwise empty alleyway (except for me, of course), then closed the door behind them. A click of a lock was audible from where I crouched.

Waiting several ticks, I snuck closer to the building to a corner where crates were stacked, scaled them to one of the windows and peaked in from the side. Within, I saw the lantern move between stacks of crates towards the back of the room to another door, two shadows moving just outside the candle’s radius until disappearing behind the second door. Waiting, I scanned the alleyway for movement, then pried the window open and slipped inside. Walking across stacks of crates, I hopped over spaces and slunk through shadows until my back touched against the far wall.

Listening near the cracks of the door, the voices muffled. When I pressed my ear to the crack of the door, all I heard was the woman’s moans. Huh. That sly dog was sneaking around Denerim in the dead of night to rendezvous with some elf?

Fiddling with my lock pick, twirling it between forefinger and thumb, I waited five minutes, another ten minutes, and though the woman’s moaning ebbed and flowed, there seemed no end to this night. Hopping down from my perch, I tried the door and found it unlocked. Opening the door a crack to peek inside, not far from the door, Duncan and the elf were in various stages of undress, with her bent over a crate while he pummeled her from behind.

Watching them, my mouth agape, a series of uncomfortable and disconcerting emotions drifted through me.

Turning to me, Duncan growled, “Get out, Marius!”

“Who the fuck?!” The woman snarled, her head turning toward me, but unable to move from how Duncan had her pinned.

Slamming the door shut, I heard Duncan reassure her as I mounted the crates and huddled against the wall. A moment later, the door clicked, locking me out, and a bar slid into place discouraging me from using a lockpick. So be it.

Once the elf resumed her moaning on the other side of the door, I returned to that head space to play out the scene in my mind; the only clothing she wore, barely, was her shirt tugged down her shoulders around her arms, pinning her hands behind her back. Even her skirt was in a pool of pale green fabric at her feet. Strewn around them, glints of metal shone in the lamplight where Duncan had shed his armor, leaving only his trousers around his ankles. The elf was attractive, a brunette with tawny complexion, and while I saw very little of her assets — her breasts crushed against the crates, her hair covering most of her face, and her ass covered by his hand — I still wouldn’t mind ploughing my fair share into her back-end.

However, for the first time, I wanted nothing more than to be the one bent over that crate with Duncan behind me. A twenty-something in the prime of his life, muscles flexing and straightening as he smacked his hips against my ass. Shaking my head to clear that image, I rubbed my fingers through my hair, trying to drag that image out of my head with my nails. But the images kept crashing against my brain, pumping my cock into her, or him pumping his cock into me until it was a seesaw of fuckutainment.

“Fuck. I think I’m going delirious,” I murmured to myself, “Not enough to eat or sleep. Probably.”

Listening to the music of a moaning woman, and the guttural growls of my commander, I hopped down from the crates, and walked a few paces away, patting down my pouches and pockets until I found what I was looking for. Pulling out a case of rolled up elfroot leaves and matchsticks, I stuck one of the rolls into the pucker of my lips and struck a match, puffing until the leaves caught a cherry glow. At this distance, I no longer heard them and my imagination was reluctantly (thankfully!) idle in its mischief.

By the time the door unlocked and the bolt slid free, I was half way through my elfroot joint and happily puffing away as I leaned against one of the crates. The elf strode through the doorway first, purposely ignoring and avoiding the path past me, taking a different route through the warehouse to the door leading outside.

“Nice ass,” I called to her, puffing a ring of smoke in her direction.

“Fuck you.”

“I didn’t offer, but I would gladly accept.”

“Asshole.”

“Marius,” Duncan’s drawl was a clear warning.

Sheepishly, I called out, “Sorry, miss.”

“Whatever, jerk,” then the door slammed behind her.

Glancing to Duncan, he was standing at the doorway lacing his trousers. His chest was bare and still held a sheen of sweat, muscles still defined from his earlier exertions. Fuck me! Turning away, I leaned my back against the crate and tried to concentrate on the elfroot and how it made my head a little fuzzy.

“You should put that out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Pulling out the tin, I tapped out the cherry and stuck the remaining joint back in the tin next to the three others and sticks of matches. I shoved it away in a pocket.

With his back to me, now covered with his armor, I felt more confident to approach him, “Why are you still here, Marius?” he asked over his shoulder.

Leaning against the doorjamb, I scratched my jaw, trying to figure out why I did remain and couldn’t come up with anything better than, _I enjoyed the sound of you fucking and imagined it was me._ “So this is what you’ve been doing? Slipping away to fuck a knife ear?” One moment I was smug in my accusation, but the next I was spitting up blood wondering where that backhand came from.

“Lose that word from your vocabulary, and others like it. I won’t tolerate it.”

Tilting my gaze toward him, his face was a cloud of fury, which made this interaction feel a little more personal than _Grey Wardens are inclusive of everyone_ rhetoric, “Yes, ser.” Backing down immediately, I rubbed the blood from my lips, shoving the urge to fight him about it to drain from my muscles. Cracking my neck from side to side, gave it that finality the moment needed.

He returned to dressing, attaching the metal pieces of his armor while he slipped back into a calm, conversational tone, “You’re terrible at tailing people. I lost you three times before you figured out where I was, and still had to step out of the shadows before you saw me.”

“So, you were letting me follow you?” Of course he was, this was the only time I successfully followed him to his end destination.

“Yes. Because I knew she wouldn’t mind a voyeur and even mentioned it to her when she arrived. She insisted on leaving the door unlocked,” he snickered, shaking his head. Draping the sword belts across his shoulders, he stepped out of the room and locked it behind us. “The night is still young, I have somewhere to take you. You’re eighteen now, right?”

Duncan was quick on his feet, lithe, and moved like smoke through the streets. Even trailing him as close as I was, I lost him three more times before he popped his head out and motioned for me to keep up.

“You’re slow,” he told me at one point, which made me work all the more diligently to keep up with him.

Stepping into the hallway of a dark, smoky building, Duncan strode across the floor boards to the back of the building until it opened up into a large living space of swanky, red velvet chairs and couches, low lighting, and incense trailing smoky curls across the ceiling of swooping, decorative drapery.

“Duncan!” A woman appeared out of nowhere at his elbow, “You never visit us anymore.”

“Dove,” his voice warm like honey as he leaned down and kissed her temple, “I brought a new warden with me. Eighteen as of recently.”

“Six months now,” I offered sheepishly.

He slipped his hand into his armor and pulled out a small pouch of coins and pushed it into my hands, “Whatever he wants.”

She detached herself from him and slipped a hand under my arm, “What can I get you, sugar?” Up close, she was an older woman, probably in her fifties, with dark kohl lining her eyes and red lips. Black corset revealed the tops of her pale breasts and a swish of colorful skirts flared at her hips. “Do you like the ladies? Or do you prefer the gents?”

“I-I dunno,” I stammered, my oblivious ass finally realizing exactly where we were.

“What about both, sweetheart? You can decide behind closed doors, hmm?” She drifted away from me and clapped her hands sharply, shattering the peaceful aura of the room as a scurry of slippered feet flew across wood floors. A line up of both men and women in various stages of undress stood before her, she turned, presenting them with a sweep of her arm.

Approaching Duncan, I twisted the pouch of coins in my hand, asking him discretely, “Is this mandatory?”

“Not at all.” Turning to me, he continued, “If you’re uncomfortable, we can leave now. But after tonight, while I would have left, you remained. Perhaps I read the intent wrong, but you seemed curious. This is about as safe as you can get with your curiosity.” Turning back to the proprietor, “Dove, I’ll check with you another time.” He turned, placing a hand on my shoulder to lead me back out.

“No, no, this is fine. I was just wondering, you know, if this was part of the job or not. But no, this is fine. I can do this.”

Duncan looked dubiously to me, but paused, allowing me to gather my courage.

All smiles, Dove curtsied, “Step this way, darling, and show me what you desire?”

A stepped away from Duncan and moved down the single row of young men and women, most were my age, maybe a little older. Once I reached the end of the row, I stood beside Dove, and pointed to an elf girl of maybe nineteen or twenty with red curls and freckles speckled across her cheeks and nose. “Her, and…” I pointed to a young man of perhaps twenty five years from probably Antiva, “And him.” Glancing behind me toward Duncan, I grinned.

“Don’t look at me, you have the money,” Duncan waved a hand toward Dove, then headed toward the small library of books.

Frowning in disappointment when Duncan didn’t seem to take the hint, after choosing the only elf, but especially someone with dark complexion, I wondered if I’d offended him? After paying Dove, I let the pair escort me down a hallway to a room, the doorway covered over with a colorful blanket. Once in the room, they spent the next hour submerging me in pleasures I never knew existed. Thus ended my virginity and the beginning of a lifetime of too much money spent on brothel workers.

Two days later, I was staring into the maul of the Deep Roads, heading down the long staircase to meet the Legion of the Dead and start my first tour of duty against the darkspawn. Any hope of reciprocation from Duncan died down there, but it never stopped me from dropping hints. His long suffering sighs could get me through a lonely night sometimes. Sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Rhue's part made me tear up, so I hope that emotion translates into the words written.  
> Duncan's part is a rare pair I wanted to explore a little and had some fun with it, and though I would have liked to play more in that sandbox, my word count was already getting out of hand.  
> Marius is such a little shit, and I loved writing this part with him. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Elvhen**
> 
> Babae = father — but fandom uses papae, and I like it better. ‘Babae’ sounds too much like baba (for bottle or baby)  
> Ba’isa’ma’lin = uncle — but since fandom uses papae, then pa’isa would make sense in this case.  
> Da’len = child  
> Ha’hren = elder  
> Lethallin/len/lan = kin (m/n/f)  
> Maema = mother  
> Ma’isa’ma’lin = aunt. Since Rhue is only six, she is abbreviating the word down to ma’isa  
> Ma serannas = my thanks  
> Sathem = you’re welcome
> 
> Sources:  
> FenxShiral on Ao3 [https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719848?view_full_work=true]  
> DA Wiki [http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language]


	22. Twenty-one, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff to smut in 2.5 seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1944  
> Smut: YES (m/f, quick mention of m/m/f)

 

 _‘Perhaps that was my mistake not pressing the issue, allowing something that could-be slip away from me.’_ That thought remained with me.

My hand pressed the small chisel against the wood, a golden-brown sliver curled up, and flaked away with the brush of my thumb. Bit by bit, the piece of wood took shape.

The Grey Wardens were my second chance. From the time I was eighteen until now, this was all borrowed time, by the grace of the Maker and a pissed off Grey Warden who thought the Joining would kill me.

We Joined the order at the same time; bound to the order and each other. He and I. Comrade in arms. Accidental lovers.

_‘Perhaps that was my mistake…’_

Picking up the sandpaper, I smoothed off the excess shavings, leaving clean lines.

A normal life is beyond me. Fate decided a carpenter’s son would not follow in his father’s footsteps when father and mother died, casting the son into the streets of Val Royeaux. Days spent in a wood shop, surrounded by the scent of pine, and oak, and cedar, ended. There would be no wife or life partner. There would be no children or grandchildren playing at my feet.

When the option to leave arrived, he did. As much as I wanted to beg him to remain, I didn’t, and he didn’t — instead, I watched him board a ship out of my life. That scene played out twice more before I turned thirty.

_‘…not pressing the issue,…’_

Picking up a smaller chisel, I carved smaller, more detailed lines into the wood. Blowing the wood dust away, I continued to carve and etch into the small block of wood as an image took shape.

My tools are now sharp blades: daggers, axes, and swords. For over twenty years, I carved through darkspawn, surrounded by the stench of death and decay.

The brother? Ten years his sibling’s junior, he remained at my side; and no matter how far I sent him, the mission, the errand, the fight, he boomeranged back to my side.

_‘…allowing something that could-be slip away from me.’_

Feeling eyes on me, I tilted my gaze in the direction of the doorway and saw her standing there. How long had she been watching?

“You don’t need to watch all the way over there. You can come closer.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful.”

Barking a laugh, I beckoned Rhue to me. Setting the chisel and wood carving down, I folded her into my embrace. She fit so well in my arms. Pressing my lips to her forehead, I breathed in the scent of lavender in her hair, then pressed my lips on the tip of her nose. Giggling, she tilted her face to mine, I brushed my lips across her eyelid, down to her cheek, then finally, capturing her lips to mine.

_Do not let them slip away._

”I was just thinking about you.” Turning Rhue to face the workbench, I reached around her and picked up the carving. “It’s not exact in detail.”

“I didn’t know you worked wood,” Rhue plucked the carving from my hand and turned it over as she inspected it.

“Carpenter’s son, but that was a long time ago. I may have skipped a few lessons, forgotten others.”

“It’s very good.”

“You are being too kind,” I chuckled.

“No, no, I see it. It’s a bear, right?” She held up the carving. “There’s an ear here and…” she turned the carving to the right, “oh and another one over here. And there’s the nose. Three paws… no, there’s the fourth. It’s a little…surreal, yeah?”

“You mean lopsided?”

“No, surreal, dreamlike. I love it. I’m keeping it.” Pressing the carving to her chest, she glanced over her shoulder, “How did you know the bear looked a lot like this… just more… teeth.”

“Oh, well, that was for practice,” scratching my beard, it’d been so long since I’d carved anything, “I’ll make you a better one.”

“Why? I like this one,”Rhue turned around, wrapped her arms around my neck, and reached up to kiss me.

Grabbing her ass in my hands, I picked her up to her startled squeal, and settled her on the bench. “I’m glad you like it.” Brushing the back of my fingers across her cheek, she closed her eyes and leaned into the delicate touch, “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

Smiling, Rhue glanced up at me with a shake of her head, “No, I don’t think you ever have.”

“Ahh, then I should rectify that,” spreading my palm over her cheek, fingers splayed into her hairline, “Your First Enchanter told me about an exceptional mage, a fire mage, top marks in all their studies, and passed the Harrowing with flying colors. Never in my wildest dreams did I even consider the mage Irving had in mind for the Grey Wardens was the same lovely elf I had seen six months previously when I went to Kinloch Hold to fetch Alistair.”

Reminiscing, walking side by side with the Knight Commander, we passed the apprentice library on the way to higher floors, I noticed a cute red head sitting alone with a pile of books around her, playing with her hair as she read. When she glanced up, our eyes met and lingered, my breath caught in my chest. When Greagoir asked me a question, I glanced back to him as we rounded a corner that led to the stairs. I didn’t see her again, but I looked.

“I remember.” One of the books laid out before Rhue was an ancient Tevene primer she had been hiding under other books while trying to decipher the old language into a journal. The amount of Templars passing back and forth that day kept her on edge and paranoid. There was rumor of a visiting Grey Warden, but it didn’t concern her, she was still an apprentice with no word on when she would be next to take the Harrowing. The sound of armored feet alerted her to approaching Templars, she pushed the primer under another book, and glanced up from her study as Knight Commander Greagoir and the visiting dignitary came into view. Armored, but not the tin-cans she was accustomed to seeing, when their eyes met, an eruption of butterflies filled her belly; her eyes remained on him long after he looked away, and kept staring hoping he would reappear. She remained in the library hoping for another glimpse, but he never showed before she had to run to her next class.

“So imagine my surprise the same elf mage who caught my attention months prior,” my thumb trailed over her lower lip, “was the same mage recommended by Irving. So you see, you did not need to seduce me, I would have found a way to enlist you.”

“That was the best part,” Rhue lightly nipped at my thumb still playing with her fleshy lower lip, “And had I not, you would still be trying to play the stuffy, stoic warden,” deepening her voice, “’Duty, sacrifice, blah blah blah’ instead of pushing me up against walls or pressing my face into the bedroll.”

Chuckling softly, “I don’t sound like that,” I waited as her hands reached behind my waist and neck to untie the shop apron strings, then swept the apron to the side of her. “And continuing to seduce you has been the highlight of my experiences since leaving the tower.“ Unlacing the red tunic, she exposed my chest to her curious hands; while my right hand reached under her robes, a sword-calloused palm sliding up the silky smoothness of her thigh, “because even better than seducing you is watching your facial expressions. You’ve spent so many years reducing your base impulses to a whimper—”

“I have not,” I grumped.

“— that you don’t let yourself go, or afraid of how much to let loose. I wonder sometimes how feral with lust you could become.”

“Never so much to harm you,” leaning in to nuzzle her neck, my teeth scraped across her skin, while my palm drifted lazily up and down her thigh.

On the exhale, she hissed out her breath, “Oh, right, don’t break the elf.”

“Never dream of it,” I murmured near her ear, fingers grazing between her thighs, a caress, a tease, successfully eliciting a whimper, then slid away, the calloused palm across the bone of her hip, massaging the flesh of her thigh; lips trailed across her exposed skin, tasting her, nipping the skin of her collarbone between my teeth, lathing my tongue across an earlobe until she trembled with wanton lust. Immersed in the simple worship of her body, I relished in arousing the flush of desire across her cheeks, her neck, and the exposed skin just below her collar bone.

“Tease,” she accused, nipping my lower lip with her teeth.

“What do you want, mon coeur?” the other hand slid into her hair, grabbing a chunk, then dragged her head back to expose her throat to the scrape of my teeth. “My lips, my fingers… my… cock?”

“All of it,” her voice breathless.

“Greedy girl,” my right hand was closer. Parting nether lips, two fingers curled into her, penetrating her, stroking the slick inner walls; an initial gasp, her hips bucked into my hand, each penetrating thrust hitching her breath, while growing more erratic and haggard with her excitement. Slowing my assault on her sex, I knew she was getting close, “Are you trying to come without telling me? You know you’re not allowed until I say.”

“Please,…”

A cleared throat, a knock on a door frame, startled my concentration. “Ser, Seneschal Harvey at your service.”

“Kind of busy, Seneschal,” a growl of displeasure, as I tugged her close against my body protectively, her cunt tightening around my fingers reflexively.

Hiding her head against my chest, Rhue whimpered against my skin, her breath hot, “Get rid of him. Please, I’m so close.”

“I see that, Warden Commander, it’s just that…” the man awkwardly trying to address me, looking everywhere else but us. Pressing a bundle of papers to his chest, he rubbed a hand through his hair. Everything about him seemed non-descript, mousy brown hair, average height, average weight; two eyes, lips and nose, but nothing about his face stood out. Everything about him was average and plain.

“You told me yourself to interrupt whatever you were doing when Warden Marius returned from the capital. He has news from the King.”

The thought of Marius developed into an image of the three of us; Rhue’s naked body draped down the length of my mine, bound in ropes, her hands tied behind her back, and her head thrown back in bliss and moaning in pleasure. Holding her tight against my chest, her legs draped over Marius’ shoulders, his fingers digging into her hips while he pummeled her with punishing strokes. The senior warden’s hungry eyes raked over her body until they lifted to mine when his lips spread into a lopsided grin.

Shaking my head to clear the image, I whispered in Rhue’s ear, “I’m sorry, my love.” Removing my fingers from between her thighs, and feeding them to her, she greedily sucked her juices from my digits, “I need to know the news from the king. Besides, if you’re a good girl, I’d enjoy tying you up and watching Marius fuck you.”

Grinning around my fingers, her eyes shifted from frustrated desperation to eager acceptance, “I’d like that.”

Helping her down off the work bench, we followed the Seneschal.

 

 

 

* * *

 I think I'm funny. ~R

Duncan walks forward, "This is...?"

Irving: "Yes, this is she."

Duncan thinking, 'Fuck! You didn't tell me she was beautiful! The Grey Warden manual said nothing about fraternizing, right?' probably.

"Thank you for walking with me. I am glad for the company."

Rhue thinking, 'how else will I know which room to come to later tonight?' probably. (Definitely!)

"I am flattered. I was not expecting quite so warm a reception."

Rhue's internal monologue, 'wait till later. It's about to get hot in here.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/18/2019 Note:  
> Canonically, Alistair was sent to the Bournshire Monastery. At the time of writing, I think I was just recalling a HC that Cullen and Alistair knew each other. *grumps* I'd like to come back through and correct mistakes later, so this is a note to myself, too. I see it, I'm aware, it makes me grumpy.


	23. Twenty-one, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Marius] Rubbing my hands down my face, my breath a whisper against my hands, “I’m so fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1425  
> Smut: No
> 
> Initially I wanted Chapters 22, 23, & 24 to be all in one, but since they are from three different points of view, I split them up. They were also getting to long.

 

The fortress was remarkable. It spread across the foothills before steep cliffs, while a large grey stone tower rose majestically above the cliffs, ramparts and smaller towers circled spacious courtyards. With the snow-capped Frostback Mountains in the backdrop, it made for an impressive view. Some time back, Duncan and I had ridden past this old fortress, a ruin haunted by brigands and thieves, but the work restored most of it to its previous glory.

The clip clop of Ghost’s hooves rang out on cobblestone as I made my way under the portcullis, several travelers on foot keeping to the sides as we entered. Merchant stalls and their hawkers made a maze of the courtyard. Elsewhere, the sound of swords and lathes clashed indicated a training arena nearby.

A lone figure with mousy brown hair stood on the top step leading into the main keep. Average height, average weight, there was nothing outwardly descriptive of the man, other than the white robes and gold stole draped across his shoulders marking his importance.

Hopping off Ghost, I grabbed my saddle bags when a stable boy no older than ten approached, “I can take care of yer horse, ser, warden, ser,” he pointed to the nearby stables.

“Be sure to give him some oats and a good brushing. We’ve traveled far and he deserves it,” when I handed the reins over, he nodded his head, and led Ghost in that direction.

“Seneschal Harvey at your service,” the nondescript man on the top step called out, “Welcome home, Warden Marius. We've been expecting you.” As I approached, he continued, waving for me to follow him, “We're all very excited to know what is happening in Denerim.”

It took a moment to recall where I traveled from, since I was still reminiscing about Rhue and her bear encounter, how I feared for her safety; comparing it to when I realized when I developed something for Duncan. Giving my head a quick shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I reached into my bags, my hand touching several scrolled missives, but pulled out the one meant for the seneschal, and handed it over, ”This one is for you, I believe.”

“Ahh yes,” Harvey popped the seal, unrolled the parchment and skimmed its contents, “Warden Commander Duncan must be alerted to this news.” He rolled the scroll up, pausing in the middle of the main keep, “Ahh, please wait here. I'll return shortly. Duncan insisted on knowing the moment you arrived.”

Waiting, I moved aimlessly around the room. It lacked decorations, just an assortment of tables and a simple, wood chair at the head of the hall. Staring ahead of me beyond the bare stone wall, the earlier thought boomeranged back at me, comparing when I realized I was developing feelings for Duncan, to how I was beginning to develop similar feelings for Rhue. For Duncan, his lack of interest or obliviousness was palpable; eventually, I shoved those feelings away in a box, locked it away, and tossed it behind me. Whatever happened between Rhue and Duncan, I needed to stay out of it. That thought accompanied a bitter laugh, I’d meddled in their affair enough. Any emotions for her needed to join that locked box with Duncan. To do anything otherwise would betray his trust.

Dreams of her haunted me; rubbing my hands down my face, my breath a whisper against my hands, “I’m so fucked.”

“Marius!” With barely enough time to turn around to react, a ball of red energy jumped into my arms and wrapped her arms around my neck, “I've missed you,” her breathe warm against my ear sent a shiver down my spine. Fuck.

“Oh Rhue, I've missed you too,” burying my face against her neck and hair, I breathed her in, the faint scent of lavender in her hair and _her_ , “I wish I could kiss you in more than just my dreams,” it took me a moment to realize I whispered this in her ear when she drew back with a grin. Shit. Shitshitshit.

Leaning forward, she pecked the tip of my nose and wiggled out of my arms. Grabbing my hand, Rhue guided me back to where the Seneschal and Duncan were talking. Her fingers were soft but cold as she further tangled her fingers with mine. Giving her hand a squeeze, she glanced back at me, giving my hand a quick, return squeeze.

“The king decided he wants to visit the keep,” the seneschal was reading from the scroll I’d given him, “I was expecting as much. So much to do before his visit. So much to do” he should have looked more frazzled by the news, but his voice remained a somber monotone, “He has decided to return to the city at the head of the wardens, parade the heroes of Fereldan before all the people of Denerim on the anniversary of the slaying of the archdemon.”

Frowning, Duncan paced back and forth, fidgeting with his gauntlets, “We can't leave the keep with no one to guard it.”

Pointing at the script, Harvey read aloud, “Which is why he'll arrive with enough soldiers to hold the fort until your return.”

Sighing, Duncan shook his head, “And when does he plan to arrive?”

“In a month.”

Surprised, I glanced between Duncan and Harvey, “A month? When is this celebration supposed to happen?”

Revealing more parchment in the scroll, the seneschal continued to read, “In two months. A statue of Alistair is being erected for the occasion, in his memory. King Cailan specifically wants Duncan there for its unveiling.”

“Right, of course,” a dark look passed over Duncan’s face when he turned away.

“Not much of a celebration; rather a somber note,” I remarked, glancing down at the stones, trying to recall the battle that took the life of the young Alistair from us. Battles with darkspawn generally blurred between one and the next, and each one always seemed to take another of our number. Duncan would never allow new recruits, especially not Alistair and Rhue, near the front lines until they were ready. Knowing Duncan as I did, he would rather sacrifice himself, and would see it as a failing on his part. Did King Cailan realize that? A harsh reminder, and not one Duncan needed. Did Duncan offend the King?

“If you will come with me,” the seneschal glanced toward the Keep’s entrance, “The trainees will be coming through here soon for lunch. I'm sure you would like privacy to discuss your plans,” gesturing for us to follow, he turned on his heel for another door at the end of the hall.

“Yes, lead the way,” Duncan said, turning to follow. Startled, he glanced down when Rhue slipped her other hand in his, then smiled as he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing them to her knuckles. The sweet moment passed, and they turned to follow the seneschal, then Rhue tugged me by the hand with a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. I’m so fucked.

“The people will see it as a celebration; you saved Fereldan and chased darkspawn back to their shadows underground. It will also allow you a chance to recruit,” the seneschal lead us through a doorway into a long hall.

“Very few wish to join the wardens in the dark days before a Blight, less now will come to our banner,” Duncan muttered.

Our steps echoed on stone floors, the noise of the keep and the courtyard outside receding as we passed into what looked like a cave, entering at the base of the stone cliffs into a well lit tunnel until we emerged into a public bath. A hot spring, by the amount of steam floating lazily over the surface. Men and women, wardens, servants, visiting guests, were already splashing and talking in small groups when we emerged.

Tucking the scroll under his arm, Harvey clapped loudly, barking, “Everyone out! The warden commander has use of the springs.” It didn’t take long for naked bathers to emerge from the water, grab their basket of belongings, and slip past us with nods and respectful murmurs of “Warden Commander.” Turning to us once the last of the bathers left, he stated in his monotone, gesturing to the location of each item as he spoke, “Soaps, towels, basket for your belongings. You won’t be disturbed. When you’re finished here, lunch will be served in your private dining room.” The seneschal bowed, then turned to leave, closing a distant door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about Alistair, I really really am.


	24. Twenty-one, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you know the usual things that happens in a public bath, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3691  
> Smut: YES (cunnilingus, analingus)*
> 
>  
> 
> *(I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but I'm tired of looking at it.)

 

_This is a dream._

 

While I fought and clawed my way out of a childhood memory — a nightmare — eventually it shifted, and spit me into the entrance way of a wood shop, the smell of freshly cut wood soothing my wrecked senses. The _scrape-scrape_ of metal against wood calmed my nerves as I watched Duncan work the wood, muscles straining into each press of the chisel. Wearing red tunic sleeves rolled up to his biceps, the laces at his neckline revealing the start of his muscled chest and the black curls peeking out, his complete attention engrossed on the wood object. Serenity filled me within his presence; no wonder I fled my nightmares and dived into his dreams, they couldn’t reach me here.

For some reason, I couldn’t wake from my nightmares, nor from Duncan’s dreams, no matter how much I pushed toward consciousness. The alchemical concoction’s purpose was to cause drowsiness, not act as an anesthetic. I’d miscalculated. Woefully so. The potentially dangerous ramifications were not lost to me, but seeing Duncan, I’d hoped it also meant my sleeping form was well guarded and just fine; whether he fell asleep during his vigil, or taking a break to allow Marius. The other danger still remained, demons.

Leaning against the door frame must have alerted him to my presence when he glanced up; smiling, he called me over. Even here in the dreamscape, the small bear statue showed his lack of practiced skilled at woodworking. It was endearing, and touching he would think of me, then calling me beautiful, sharing our memories of the first time we laid eyes on one another — I needed to return the focus of our relationship back to my comfort zone. Sex was easy. Sex was basic. Sex was hormones. Sex didn’t involve messy emotions. It wouldn’t matter if the person walked away after sex. It wouldn’t matter if templars took them away. If they were sent to other circles. If they were forced into tranquility. Unfortunate. But it wouldn’t hurt. When Karl disappeared after his harrowing, sent to Kirkwall, I saw the effect it had on Anders. There was no consoling the young man. The emotions Duncan tip-toed around — I’m a mage, mages aren’t allowed to, absolutely forbidden to fall—

Marius surprised me.

Initially I thought he was just part of Duncan’s dream, like the seneschal; but when I jumped into his arms, he felt real. And the whisper was not something a slumbering, dreaming Duncan would think to add, yet the whisper and his horrified look that he had said it aloud nearly made me laugh. Flirtatious banter with Marius while awake usually bordered on awkward, like he wasn’t sure he should; a stark contrast to the barn dream we shared, all unrestrained lust and hot passion.

This wasn’t just a dream. This was the fade.

Walking past bare stone walls, I couldn’t place this building. My limited experience of the world was the stone walls of the Circle tower, and the childhood memories of the alienage. But this, gazing up at the high walls of the corridor, doorways that led to other rooms, I didn’t recognize any of it. Peeking between Duncan and Marius, they both seemed to know where they were going until we entered the cave entrance; whereas Duncan seemed more hesitant, Marius pulled ahead. Still, I wondered why they would dream of this? Did they often dream together? Did they know? What did it mean that I appeared in their dreams? How long would they remain in the fade before they slipped back into their own dreams?

_“…You won’t be disturbed. When you’re finished here, lunch will be served in your private dining room.”_

Then the seneschal left.

“You don’t need to ask me twice,” Marius said, unbuckled sword belts and tugged off his armor, dropping the weapons, leather, and linen unceremoniously into a nearby basket. Buck ass naked, he darted enthusiastically for the hot spring.

Duncan hesitated, then started to remove his various belts; setting each neatly into an empty basket.

“He has a nice ass,” I blurted out, tilting my head to one side as I watched Marius head into the public bathing pool. Then mentally cursed myself for saying it aloud.

Duncan glanced at me, then shifted his gaze back to Marius as the other man stepped gingerly down the steps as steam shifted around his legs, “He does. A little hairy, though.”

“Hey! I heard that!” He called over his shoulder, then dunked his whole body into the water, coming up with his black hair plastered to his face. Whipping his head from one side to the other to clear his face, “This is great! What are you waiting for?”

As I helped Duncan out of his armor, they discussed what the seneschal had told them, though Duncan seemed more grieved about the monument to Alistair.

Unbuckling the rerebrace from his upper arm, I asked, “Is he your son?”

Startled, “What?” Duncan shook his head, “No, I’m his mentor and guardian. His mmm—parents…” He paused, his hands on the buckles of his armor, his eyes unfocused in some distant past, “They were unable to raise him.” Giving his head a shake to clear a mental image, he glanced at me, offering an apologetic smile, “It’s all I can say.”

“You raised him, then, like a son?” I stooped down and set the rerebrace in the basket and shifted to his other side.

Watching his face host a series of different emotions before settling back to neutrality, Duncan replied, “No, Arl Eamon raised him in his household, at least until he joined the monastery at Bournshire as a teen. It was there where I recruited him, six months before your recruitment. It should not have been him,” his hand flexed into a fist, a flash of anger, “to kill the archdemon, that honor should have gone to an older warden, one whose years is limited.”

Asking slyly, “Do you remember where you were in the battle? Against the archdemon?” I set the other rerebrace down, keeping one eye on him as he considered my question, his brow furrowing more as he thought about it. Casting a glance to Marius, he too was giving it considerable thought, “That’s because this is a dream — the fade, I think — but this place does not come from my memories.”

“The keep is one Marius and I helped King Cailan clear out. He wanted to gift it to the wardens once the blight was over, a center for the Grey Wardens in Fereldan,” he replied, slipping his boots off his feet. “But I don’t recall the public hot spring bath.”

“The bath is from Starkhaven, I remember being invited there by Prince Vael, an honor bestowed to a Grey Warden in his city,” Marius piped in. “A dream, so none of this has happened?” his arms folded on the side of the pool, holding up his head while he listened to us.

“Could it happen, is this prophetic?” the older warden asked, his brow furrowing.

With him down to his skin, I removed my robes, folding them and tossing it into a separate basket with my slippers and linen small clothes. When I turned, Marius was leaning against the side, his back to us, luxuriating in the heat of the pool.

“Maybe? Maybe not?” careful of my footing, I went down the steps into the water, “I’d hesitate to consider it prophetic, when so far, everything else is from your memories.” Submerging under the water, pushing my wet hair back when I reemerged, “I could wake you, I think. Maybe? But until the alchemical concoction I drank runs its course, I think I’m stuck.”

Marius rubbed the bridge of his nose, “If you stay here,… demons?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m staying,” Marius stated, reaching out of the pool for a basket of soaps near by. “And taking full advantage of Starkhaven’s generosity.”

Duncan slid effortlessly into the water, submerging, and disappearing under the surface. Alarmed at the touch of his hands on my calf, he wrapped his arms around my legs; I squealed when he bolted upward, carrying me with him, my body sliding into his chest. Leveling his dark gaze with mine, “We’re not going anywhere. If you remain, so do we.”

Grinning and wrapping my arms around his neck, I whispered a heart-felt, “Thank you.” Leaning close to kiss his lips, I paused a breath away, purring, “I have an idea,” lightly nibbled on his lower lip, my hand slid down his chest.

“Rhue… We have an audience,” Duncan mumbled against my lips.

“Not if he joins,” I offered, grinning.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Duncan’s brow arched when he leaned back to look me in the eye, and at that moment I couldn’t tell in this low light if he was teasing me or there was a hint of jealousy. Both? The man frustrated me sometimes with how neutral he maintained his emotions.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Curling my fingers into his hair teasingly—regardless, I wouldn’t allow him to intimidate me. Glancing over my shoulder toward Marius, “I think you should order Marius,” then back to him, “with that sexy Warden-Commander tone of yours, to pleasure me.” Would he be agreeable if he had full control of the interaction?

Scrubbing shampoo through his shoulder-length, black hair, Marius paused to blink at me, “Do what now?”

Furrowing his brow, Duncan asked, “Why? I’ve done just fine.”

Simpering a smile, purring, “Yes. Yes, you do.” Lifting my hand to his cheek, I paused a mere scant hair length from touching skin, only the whisper of my touch, as my hands splayed out, hovering fingertips over his lips, “Your confidence is intoxicating. The passionate joy exudes from when you order me to my knees, the power of a simple, filthy command, the wanton desire in your eyes; how you control your impulses until I’m shattered and trembling.” My eyes lifted to his when he grabbed my hand and kissed the soft flesh of my inner wrist, my voice caught and rough as I whispered, “I want to see that from a voyeuristic view. Because I know, those casual glances at him aren’t so casual when you have cast those same glances my way.”

His silence was deafening; he watched me through unreadable dark, bronze eyes, then his hand snaked behind my neck and pulled me close, his beard tickling my neck when his lips brushed across my ear lobe; he knew my ears were far too sensitive now for such casual touches, dammit. Voice low and husky, “Am I so easy to read, mon coeur? Do you not mistake a long time friendship for more?”

The corner of one lip curled up, my whisper for Duncan’s ears, as I watched his face, “I’ve seen you watch him in the practice ring with one of the soldiers, shirtless, pouring sweat, muscles bunched and flexing under the strain of practice…” a blush spread across Duncan’s cheeks, “You bark orders, he obeys… imagine if your orders…”

“To please you?” A warm palm slid across my breast, gasping when Duncan’s fingers lightly pinched and prodded my pink nipple to tighten into a tight nub. Pleased, I could tell he was warming to the idea, though it was ridiculously easy to arrive to this point; he’d been thinking about it before now.

“That’s entirely the point, is it not? And…” my voice now loud enough to reach the other man, canting my head to glance between them, “Give him orders. Anything beyond that, he must ask permission.” Eyes still wide, Marius stared at me, mouth agape, his hair and hands still soapy, paused in mid-air, “Of course, only If Marius consents to his Commanding Officer ordering him to give oral pleasure to the junior warden.”

“Yes,” Marius stated matter-a-factly, animated once more, “You should also know my safe word—”

“A what?” Gliding to the edge of the pool with me in his arms, Duncan fetched the soap supplies from the basket, listening, while washing off imaginary travel grime, while I did the same.

“A safe word?” the younger warden grinned, “If you’re going to play games like these, you should have one, too. At any point, if someone becomes uncomfortable or wants to stop the interaction, they say their safe word, and all action ends. It’s a matter of consent, and ending consent,” he ended with, “And nothing you will call out during sex.” Dunking his head into the water, he scrubbed the soap out before popping his head back above the water.

Waiting until he surfaced, I asked, “And yours is?”

Once he finished bathing, Duncan wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling my neck as he drew me against him. He smelled clean, the cedarwood and citrus soap he used made him smells woodsy, like the wood shop, we recently left; then it dawned on me, he bathed in the scent of his youth, did he miss his old life? His lips trailed up my neck, breaking my thoughts apart, while his hands trailed down my hips and gripped my ass, pulling me against him.

“Mabari,” Marius puffed out his chest with a smirk.

Something between a gasp and laughter passed my lips, “You chose the most Fereldan thing to be your safe word?”

Marius shrugged, grinning, “Why not? I travel all over Southern Thedas.”

“What’s your safe word, Rhue?” Duncan whispered in my ear, his hand slipped between my thighs, a feather touch over sensitive skin, then receding again, brushing callused fingers across my hip.

“Duncan--” my head fell forward, my forehead pressed against his chest.

“That's not a good safe word. It could be a color if you can’t think of anything right now,” Marius offered, smirking, while trying to look anywhere but us, “Like, red. Red is used often.”

“No, that's not my safe word. When I call out Duncan's name, I don't want him to stop.” Reaching between us, my hand stroked down his hip until I found his cock, wrapping my hand around the shaft, his arousal twitching in my hand, “I-- I hadn’t thought about it. Gimme a sec.” Watching Duncan’s face, his eyelids heavy as I continued to stroke my hand up and down the silky shaft, his member thickening and hardening under my ministrations. Pushing the excess skin back from the crown, I skimmed my thumb across the tip to the satisfying hitch of Duncan catching his breath, “Genitivi.”

“Ask a Chantry circle mage…., it’s enough to make any dick limp,” Marius chuckled but it sounded forced and awkward. From my peripheral, Marius was making his way to the stairs.

“Any more rules to your game?” Duncan asked, his voice husky as he grabbed my wrists and pulled them over my head, gripping them both with one hand, and dragging me up his chest and part way out of the water so he could smack my ass. Turning his head to regard Marius, the younger warden with one foot on the step, “Did I say you could leave, warden?”

Eyes widening, and a faint smile starting to ghost the edge of his lips, “Ser, no ser.”

Shifting me in his arms, he secured me comfortably in his left arm, my arms wrapped around his neck, and my legs wrapped around his waist, Duncan roamed his hand up and down my side, watching me for an answer.

“No other rules, Duncan,” close enough to reach his ear, I nibbled his lobe, “You know how much I love fucking you.”

He grunted, the corner of his lips lifting. “C’mere, Marius,” waiting for the other warden to wade closer in the waist-deep pool, Duncan shifted his hand between my legs, lightly trailing a finger along the crease, teasing me with his touch. Turning his head to me, he leaned in for a kiss, gentle touches of our lips, nipping my lower lip with his teeth until I could feel Marius close to us. “Start with her shoulders, massage down her back, to her ass. Hands and lips. If you lean into her, press your cock between her ass cheeks, but no penetration. You’re not allowed yet.”

“Yes, ser.” Tentative to start, Marius’ finger tips trailed up my spine, sending a shiver down the length of my back. Spreading his palms across my shoulders, he massaged the muscles with hesitant, gentle squeezes.

“Are you afraid she is going to break?” Duncan growled low, spreading my lower lips apart till he could caress his thumb in circular patterns until I whimpered, “Or are you trying to make her fall asleep?” Sliding two fingers inside, I gasped, biting down on his shoulder as he pressed them deep, rubbing in short strokes, searching for the sensitive area within.

An annoyed grunt, Marius pressed his hips against mine, but I may have bucked from Duncan’s efforts. Adjusting himself, his cock was erect when he initially pressed against me, but it had hardened enough to fit between my ass cheeks, and ground his hips against me. Huffing, I glanced over my shoulder and wiggled my ass. Grinning, he slapped it. Spreading his palms across my lower back, he ran his palms up to my shoulders, massaging the stress from my muscles to my whimpers, and dragged his short nails across my skin. Trailing kisses down my spine, he alternated with nipping teeth into my flesh, until he found the scars. He took special care in laying soft kisses on old scars.

The pleasure of sensations danced across my skin, causing me to miss Duncan’s words, only the growl reverberating in his chest and the answer in actions when Marius’ hands flowed down my back until they spread my ass cheeks apart, meeting my ass with his mouth, laving the nerves with the broad side of his tongue. My whimpering moans were loud enough to echo back to me in the hot spring cavern.

With a trembling whimper, “There, Duncan, right there,” when his fingers passed over the interior bundle of nerves, sending a pulse straight to my core, and up my spine where the tingle spread across my scalp like electricity.

“I found it?” He whispered, and with my affirmative nod, he focused grazing fingers across that spot, over and over again. “You’re not allowed to come, Rhue,” he warned.

Between the two of them, it didn’t take long before I was a quivering mess, “Please...” I begged, “I need to… I’m so close…”

“No. Marius, stop,” Duncan’s voice husky, he removed his fingers, and Marius leaned back, removing his hands and mouth; I suddenly felt empty and wanton. “Do you want to taste her? She drenched my fingers.”

“Yes, ser,” at a gesture from Duncan, Marius hesitated, then leaned against me again, his palms lingering on my hips.

“Open your mouth,” Duncan rasped. From my peripheral, he slid two fingers into Marius’ mouth, “Now suck,” I turned my head to watch this interaction between the two wardens; they stared into the other’s eyes — the Commander’s heavy lidded, while the younger warden’s a heated desire — Marius hardened, his hips grinding against my ass as he sucked hungrily on Duncan’s fingers.

“On your knees,” Duncan ordered, withdrawing his fingers from Marius’ mouth, “or till the water comes to your shoulders.”

Obeying, Marius withdrew and sunk into the water till the water lapped his shoulders. Returning his attention back to me, Duncan brushed my lips with soft kisses between his words, “Ready for Marius to lick your pussy?”

The words pulled a smile across my lips, “Such a romantic.” When he chuckled, I grinned, “Yes.”

A moment later, I was facing Marius, my legs draped over his shoulders as he kissed up my thighs, teasing me with teeth and tongue. Each command from Duncan sent a rumble through my back and chest as I leaned against him. The short break didn’t diminish my arousal; while Duncan nipped at the tip of my ear down my neck to my collar bone, tickling me with his beard, and kneading his paws into my breasts, Marius’ pleasing tongue was quick to coax moans from me. A combination of sensations sent desire flooding up from my core, electricity spiking in rapid succession up my spine, my body shuddering. It was intoxicating, I felt drunk with pleasure.

Another rumble murmured through my chest, the answer between my thighs, but the ravishing didn’t end. Squirming, whimpering, “Too much, too much,” Duncan’s voice finally pierced the fog of my mind, his lips trailing along the length of my ear, his voice a husky growl, “How many orgasms can we give you, Rhue?” A pinch to a nipple sent another surge through my body, a shuddering moan echoed back to me; Marius still focused between my thighs made it hard to concentrate on anything at all, “Is there too much, mon coeur? If you wish this to end, say the word” Another thrill of pleasure pulsed through me when Marius’ fingers found that elusive bundle of nerves within, causing my hips to buck against his face.

“Genitivi! Genitivi!” I cried out, “No more! No more!”

Marius withdrew and Duncan pulled me up into his arms, my arms wrapped around his neck, my head leaning against his shoulder, and my legs dangling over his arm. Wading through the water till he reached the edge of the pool, Duncan sat down on the highest step with me in his arms, cuddling me close as I regained my breathing and my senses. Following behind us with a splash of water, Marius sat down beside us and stretched out, leaning back on his palms and allowing his head to fall back. I’m not sure if he knew just how beautiful, perfectly sculpted he was; broad, corded shoulders, strong arms, lean muscles sculpting the length of his chest and abdomen, and lithe muscles stretching down long legs. As if hearing my thoughts, he turned his head toward me, winking. Maybe he did.

After a few quiet moments, Duncan brushed his lips across the crown of my head, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture is new. What do you think? Instead of place and POV, it's a picture of whose point of view the chapter will be from. I won Padme4000's giveaway, and getting the romance icons. With permission, I'll probably go with those after I get them. Without permission, I have b/w photoshopped screenshots in front of colored hearts (such as the one with Rhue above).


	25. Twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when everything you ever wanted is handed to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 3258  
> Smut: Yes, but it's more of background noise, then the main focus. m/m/f (and variations thereof), use of toys, D/s (mild bdsm), anal, fingering, fellatio, double penetration (though I don't know if that one is very clear)
> 
>  
> 
> There is art at the end of this chapter. :D

“I’m yours,” I moaned, “I’ve always been yours.”

With one last buck of his hips, Duncan spent himself inside me, and collapsed atop of me with a loud grunt of pleasure. Curling an arm around him, my head fell back against the pillow as I tried to regain my senses, my eyes unfocused on the decorative canopy above us.

Curling in beside me on the bed, Rhue’s hand caressed Duncan’s sweat dampened back, our fingers tangling together, “That was amazing. Promise we can do this again.” She had this way of purring like a languid cat sunning itself in a patch of light.

Grinning, I curled an arm around her, pressing her body against mine, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, kitten,” I murmured, kissing her forehead.

Duncan chuckled, the sound rumbling against my chest, “It’s easier to maintain stamina in the fade. But outside it? Are you trying to kill me?” He dragged himself off me and flopped to my side, leaving me in the middle. Settling my feet back on the bed, I stretched my legs till my toes curled.

“It wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” she hummed, leaning her head against my shoulder, her playful fingertips trailing across my abdomen in lazy patterns.

Without a means to measure time once we arrived to what I presumed was Duncan’s bedroom — the room and its decor Rivaini — a reasonable guess of hours spent in various acts of hedonistic debauchery, with each of us achieving orgasms at least twice; Rhue most likely more.

“If I had to choose between the Deep Roads and sex with a seductive woman and enticing man, I would definitely choose Death by Too Much Sex.” Relocating her, I snaked her across my belly, until she was snug between Duncan and me, her legs still draped across my stomach. Shifting to my side, careful to avoid dislodging her legs from across my torso, and settled my arm up the length of her thigh, while caressing my palm across her hip. “This has been incredible, I’ve never had an experience quite like this,” I continued, “The two of you, specifically, made this... — Rhue, are you on fire?!” My arm flew off her thigh to avoid the flames.

A glance at her arm as a single flame flickered from her skin like a candle, “Shit,” she nearly flew off the bed, but not before elbows and knees had caused enough damage to force air from my lungs. Grunting, Duncan gripped his side. She’d got him, too.

Alarmed, Duncan and I both jumped out the bed, with far less violence, cautious of the flames, yet confused with her lack of screaming.

Kneeling serenely next to the bucket of water beside the fireplace, she scooped water with her hands and splashed her arms, extinguishing the small flames that had been hovering over her skin.

“Are you— are you ok?” I asked, my voice cracking with both alarm and fear, “Does that hurt?”

Padding silently across colorful Rivaini carpets to a trunk at the end of the bed, he picked out plain white cloth, wadded one up, and tossed it to me.

“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt,” Rhue started to explain, casually splashing water on her belly and thighs, “I’m a fire mage, so when I get too hot for too long, the heat has to go somewhere. Weird, since I’ve had this under control for several years now. I guess my body heat had nowhere to go between the two of you.”

Duncan and I descended upon her, one after the other, we dipped the cloth in water and started helping her douse the rest of the flames. Eventually I sat behind her, wringing out some of the water into her hair to cool her scalp, then trailing the cloth down her neck and back, repeating the movements until we were sitting in a pool of water. Sitting in front of her, Duncan dipped the cloth in the water bucket and rubbed it up and down her legs, then her belly and chest. She sat motionless, arms slack at her side, as we bathed her in cool water. Perhaps I should have been more alarmed that a fire mage nearly burned down the bedroom, but since she remained calm, I did as well.

“I don’t deserve you two,” she whispered, emotion stuck in the back of her throat.

Scooting closer, Duncan wrapped his legs around us, tilted her chin up, he lightly pressed her lips with his, “I don’t know what I would do without you anymore.” Glancing at me, he reached out and drew my head closer to kiss me, “Or you.”

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I returned his kiss, then pressed my lips against her temple, “I don’t deserve either of you.” Dunking the cloth in the water bucket, I pressed the cloth across her shoulders, confessing somberly, “I feel like I’ve come home.” If waking meant losing this connection with these two, I would rather stay here, though I kept that wisely to myself.

Returning to her lips, Duncan kissed her earnestly, slipping one hand between her thighs; she began to moan into his mouth. On his command to me, I pulled her wrists back behind her back and held them there with one hand, the other massaging her breast, and pinching at a hardened nipple. My lips traced down the length of her sensitive ear, nipping and biting and licking. She moaned, and writhed, and whimpered, until her body bowed and her shuddering cry of release echoed in the room. As she settled back against me, Duncan withdrew his fingers and traced them across my lips until I opened my mouth to welcome his wet fingers, and suck on them until her taste was gone.

The door opened, the Seneschal entered with a cart laden with covered trays, wafting the smell of freshly cooked meats, vegetables, and bread. “Ahh, yes. Good. You are done then, I presume,” he eyed us down the length of his nose, then moved to another doorway with the cart, leaving the bedroom. Calling from the other room, “Your private dining room is in here, Warden Commander, when you are ready to eat.”

After we arrived from the public pool earlier, the Seneschal entered the room with a chest. Duncan had already ordered Rhue to her knees to service me, so while I peripherally knew the Seneschal had entered the room, I cared for little but the enticing little red head at my feet. Wicked little thing, a playful seductress gazing up at me as she stroked my erect cock and balls, her talented tongue dancing across the head, and her warm mouth swallowing down the shaft — she demanded my full attention.

The reason for the Seneschal’s visit became clear when Duncan arrived at my side bearing a thick wooden dildo with a wide base, longer than average, and slathered in elfroot-based lubricant, “I had seen this in a back alley market years ago in Antiva. At the time, I thought it was remarkably like my own cock, both in length and girth, but having no lover to use it on, I passed,” he watched my face for understanding, “This will go in your ass. Do you have any objections?”

Glancing at the dildo my eyes widened. Licking my lips, I rolled my lower lip into my mouth, returning my gaze to Duncan, I shook my head.

“Excellent,” turning me around, Duncan had bent me over the bed, spread my ass cheeks apart while he directed Rhue on the insertion of said dildo; how delicate and soft her hands were, so careful to avoid hurting me, the extra care in making sure I felt nothing but pleasure while inserting the thick rod. I’m not sure at what point I started to care for her, but at that moment I knew it was love.

Pushing to his feet first, the movement dragged me away from my reverie; I released my hold on Rhue allowing her take his hand, and stand up next. When he offered his hand to me, a slow, lascivious smirk spread across his lips. Adjusting myself, I muttered under my breath, “I’ll put on pants.”

“No, I don’t see why you should,” he wrapped one arm around me, while one hand slid down between my thighs, and gripped my erect cock and rubbed it in long strokes; gasping, a shiver ran down my spine. Leaning forward, he whispered in my ear, “In fact, I want you to retrieve the dildo. I want it inside you, to remind you that you belong to me.”

Releasing his hold of me, I murmured, “Yes, ser,” and returned to the bed. Grinning ear to ear, I enjoyed this game, and woke up a number of times over the years drenched in sweat and a hard cock from similar dreams. Often times, I felt shame after masturbating, ashamed of thinking of a friend sexually, ashamed knowing my desires were unrequited; I tried not to think of that now, this was still a dream, the fade, and it could still be viewed as nothing more than a passing fantasy. Once I found the dildo on the bed, Duncan touched my hip, took it from my hand, and pressed my back down until I bent over the bed; he slid it slowly into place. It went in easier this time. When I moaned low, he slapped my ass.

He pressed his body hard against mine, his hips gyrating against my ass, shifting the dildo in pleasing ways until I groaned from it, “Every time it shifts inside of you, remember this is my cock claiming your ass. And until I say otherwise, you are forbidden to come.” As his body lifted off mine, I whimpered, unsure if I could last that long.

In the next room, there were an assortment of colorful cushions and pillows ringing a low round table. Duncan sat down and comfortably stretched out his legs, then beckoned for Rhue to lay down against him, her back to his chest. Finally, he beckoned me to his other side. It took me a moment to figure out how to sit down, since the dildo moved every time I did, and my cock was hard, throbbing, almost painfully so, but I finally lay on my side in front of them, where I could feel skin contact with both.

As the seneschal served us, curiosity got the better of me, “Why do you serve us, when a servant would be sufficient?”

The man pointedly looked all three of us over, then sighed, “In your current attired state, sers, I would rather not need to remove tongues of gossipy servants.” Dishing out the food onto plates, mostly finger foods, he passed them to Duncan first, who chose who received what. Once finished, he poured red wine into glasses, then left the room.

“He would do that?” My question not directed to anyone specifically, then glanced over my shoulder at Duncan, “Would you allow him to do that?”

“Of course not,” he replied, taking a sip from the wine glass.

“Marius, are you submissive?” Holding her plate with one hand, Rhue reached behind me to grasp the end of the dildo to stroke inside me, slow and rhythmic, “So if I decided to boss you around, you would obey me?” Easing the dildo to sink in, her fingers caressed the entrance of my ass, stimulating the nerve endings with her touch. She returned her attention to her meal.

Closing my eyes, gasping, the movement sending thrills of pleasure up my spine, I waited until she retreated her hand before replying, “I’ve allowed very few to command me.”

“That’s only half an answer.”

“You’re cute, but I couldn’t take you seriously as a dominatrix,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder at her as I plopped a mouthful of salami into my mouth, then winked at her.

Snorting, “But you have a safe word,” she said around a mouthful of cheese.

“It was originally done in jest, but it stuck,” I said, shrugging, following the meat with a slice of cheese.

“So you chose mabari as a joke, but kept it, just in case?” Rhue giggled, “You’re a dork, I think that’s what I like about you.”

Silent for the conversation as he ate, Duncan set his empty plate down on the table, then removed our plates from our hands, and set them down as well. Drawing us both to him, he started kissing Rhue first until she whimpered breathless, “Touch Marius,” he murmured against her lips.

Shifting his attention to me, Duncan kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue, our tongues tasting and flicking against the other. Soft, delicate hands grazed up and down my chest, I grabbed one of her wrists, and pulled her hand down to my aching, throbbing cock, her small hand tightening around my hard length immediately. Moaning into Duncan’s mouth, I wanted more of her, of him. Hands roamed, lips and tongue tasting salty skin, relishing in the worship, the three of us a mess of tangled limbs, panting, gasping breath, and writhing, aroused bodies; unsure of where I began and where they ended. It was Rhue’s gasping moan that signaled her release, her shuddering cries coaxing my balls to tighten and my thick cock to throb. When he told me to come, I did, pulling her hips hard against mine, I spent myself, jetting hot liquid inside her. Following my shuddering groan, Duncan moaned a sharp grunt of carnal bliss.

Collapsing back into the pillows, I waited for my breathing to return to normal, for my heart rate to normalize. Duncan was the first to climb to his feet, “Rhue, come with me.” He held out his hand to help her up. “Going to the balcony so she can cool off, Marius. Would you like to join us?”

“Yeah,” after a moment of staring at the ceiling, a combination of stone pillars holding up wood slats and thick beams. Once the pair left the room, I climbed to my feet, and followed after them.

At the ramparts, Duncan held her in his thick arms as they stared down into the courtyard, she was such a tiny thing. They stood partially dressed at the railing, he wore black pants, and she wore his dark red shirt. It was a matter of thinking about my pants when the dark leather formed around my hips and down the length of my legs. Padding out to them, I leaned against the balustrade beside them.

“This has been my dream. The Keep, the trainees down in the yard, the trust of the King and his people…” Duncan murmured, scratching at his beard, “To be alive after the Blight ended and see it all come to fruition. I worked twenty years for this.”

“There’s still time,” I said, glancing over at him.

“Hmm. Maybe,” he cast a glance toward me, “I don’t feel the Calling here. I’m afraid to hope the song will subside when the Blight ends, giving me more time.”

“I— I’m not sure. The fade is different, different rules, it could be dampening it,” Rhue furrowed her brow and bit her lower lip, a thoughtful expression.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, “The two of you are the dessert topping I had not expected,” Duncan whispered, his hand reaching out to me, when I clasped my hand in his, he drew me close against them, wrapping one arm around my waist. “This has been a reprieve, an enjoyable one, but there is still work to do. Are you able to leave the Fade yet?”

Rhue shook her head, “No, I tried, something is… off, but I can’t quite figure it out.” Tilting her head up to look at Duncan, then over to me, “Do you know the Seneschal? Is he someone you recognize? There’s something… weird.”

Shaking my head, I glanced to Duncan, but he shook his head, “No, I don’t recall him.”

“I can answer that question.”

The three of us turned toward the Seneschal’s voice, but it was no longer the dry, non-descript Seneschal Harvey that had come and gone, catering to our whims. The creature’s horns flowed out of its forehead, a warped curling reminiscent to a mountain sheep, it’s skin a light shade of purple stretching across broad shoulders and broad, muscled chest. At the end of long, muscular legs the creature’s feet resembled something that belonged to a lizard, the three elongated digits tapping fearsome claws against the stone, stretching behind it a long whip-like tail. Androgynous facial features with bow-shaped lips, high cheekbones, and large eyes, but it’s voice and body were masculine. Gold piercings decorated its body; ear lobes, nose, belly button, and each nipple, the last connected with a gold chain that ran up to the gold collar around it’s neck. Gold bands circled it’s wrists and upper arms, while a barely concealing drape of translucent cloth covered it’s loins. To say it was hung like a horse would not be spinning hyperbole. It watched us with intelligent pink eyes, a faint grin touching the edges of its lips.

“Demon,” Rhue hissed.

“Let me introduce myself properly,” it said, “You may call me Desiderium, the first of my kind.” It bowed low, “I orchestrated this, your desires,” it told us. “Plucking the things you want and desire most from your minds, manipulating you, my area of the Fade to cater to you, all your desires.” It’s forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air as a look of rapture crossed its features, “It fed me, so delicious your lusts,” a shaky moan as though it were intoxicated. “I removed the Calling from your mind, Duncan. This keep, I know you covet a home, a base of operations, and worked so hard to attain… this. And Marius, your one desire, all these years…” Its eyes flicked to Duncan, “A home to call your own, a warden’s version of family. And my pretty darling, Rhue…”

“Don’t call me that,” she seethed. When I glanced to her, the shirt shifted to her usual robes, too much fabric for her small frame, a staff in hand, her stance ready for battle.

Already in full armor, Duncan held his sword and dagger, while at a thought I wore my armor, my daggers in hand.

It laughed, “Darling Rhue, I give you everything you ever wanted. I helped you escape the tower, to seduce your wardens, not just one man to accept an elven mage, but two! And what thanks do you give me?”

“I want nothing from you!” She spat at it, “I’ve asked for nothing from you! Nothing!”

“Tsk. Tsk,” it shook its head, “And here I thought we’d become such good friends. Even Marius has thought about remaining here…”

“I want nothing to do with you either,” I growled.

Duncan glanced at me, motioning for me to start moving behind it. Pushing away from the wall, I waited until Duncan charged forward, giving me a chance to spring into action.

“Please, spare me your heroics,” it waved a clawed hand, a wave of pink energy flung at me like an arrow. Trying to dodge it, it followed and flung me through the air, and I crashed into the rampart balustrade nearest Rhue. Duncan slid down onto the ground beside me with a pained groan.

“NO!” I heard her scream, then everything went dark.

 

* * *

 

Marius, Rhue, and Duncan

It took me 2 months, on and off, of working on this. I initially traced from the source, then just kept going. The boys from the image were too skinny, so I kept adding definition and muscles, and changed the direction of their heads, etc. And Rhue is shorter than they are (she should really be shorter than this...). And, and, and... I hope you like it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Desiderium is Latin for "The Desire", so yes, he's a desire demon, but more than that, he's one of the Forgotten. If Bioware ever mentions a Forgotten desire demon, I'll make the changes, but for now... I chose a Latin name over Elvhen because that's when he started to lose his Purpose, was during the fall of the Arlathan, and the rise of the Tevinter Empire. I guess. I don't know. I just like the name.


	26. Twenty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings, man. Just a bunch of gawddamn feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 2577  
> Smut: No

 

“Rhue?” The other warden knelt at her other side, his hand on her shoulder trying to shake her awake.

“Rhue? Wake up,” I’d unsuccessfully tried to wake her, shaking her shoulder, splashing her face with water, patting her face with my hand - trying to drag her back to consciousness but failing. Unable to jump back into the Fade to help her, I felt helpless, I didn’t expect the demon to avoid a fight completely. Would she wake possessed? Would it release her?

Eyes flying open, the candle illuminated Rhue’s frightened, pale face in flickering yellow light. Gasping, she clutched and scratched at her throat, trying to dislodge whatever she thought bound her bare throat. “Air!”

“Shhh, you’re safe,” I reached down to pull her hands from her throat, to keep her from harming herself.

Slapping my hands away, she jumped to her feet, stumbled, caught herself, kicked the candle as she fumbled to propel herself forward. This end of the cavern plunged into darkness, the only light coming from an orange glow of firelight near the entrance, the dancing golden light competing with a sliver of daylight splashing across the stone entrance. A flare of blue light surrounded her hand, forming a blue ball of light to dance and bob as she stumbled to the entrance.

Rising, I followed after her, Marius on my heels.

“Is she…?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

Shaking my head, I murmured, “I don’t know.” We passed a few of the soldiers packing their gear and bed rolls, their eyes wide as they watched us move through the cavern in her wake. The reaction was curious, but my focus remained on Rhue, wondering what happened to her.

The sun recently broke past the eastern hills and spread it’s gold glow across the valley, more soldiers were feeding, saddling, and packing gear on the horses. Marta spotted us, leaving her horse in the care of one of her soldiers, and started walking our way, but when her eyes landed on Rhue, the ready smile faded and her footfalls halted.

Falling to her knees, Rhue took quick, gaping breaths of the morning air. Signaling Marius, he nodded, halting behind her, and pulling his daggers free. Stepping around Rhue, I squatted in front of her; her eyes wide and unfocused, she finally turned her green gaze to me. “Would you like to tell me about it? Tell me what happened?” After twenty years working with new recruits, I learned how to regulate my voice, calm, friendly, unhurried, while offering an encouraging smile, just a faint lift of the edge of the lips, too much and it might seem false. Demon, darkspawn, monsters were the same regardless, but the initiate needed time to process and a face they could trust. And patience.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” the words tumbled from her lips in a stream of consciousness, “I should have figured it out sooner. It was obvious, right? It was your memories, and Marius’ memories.” Scoffing, “How could you manipulate the Fade? Most mages can’t manipulate the Fade like that. I should have known. I should have figured it out sooner. You were both manipulated. I was manipulated. I should have prevented it. I’m a fool. I should have done something. I wanted, I just wanted to…” her voice broke, “But it doesn’t matter what I want. That’s the point of a desire demon, right? Give you what you want? But I failed. I failed you. I’m so sorry.”

Settling my palms on my knees, I leaned in, my eyes on hers, trying to break off her self depreciating monologue, “Rhue— Shhh, you’re safe now. Did it hurt you? Did it try to possess you?”

Her hand hovered over her neck, fingertips touching her throat as she winced, “I’m not possessed. Are you going to let Marius harm me?”

“No, of course not,” Glancing back at Marius, he sheathed his daggers. Returning my attention to her, I reached out to rub my palms from her shoulders down her upper arm and back, a soothing gesture to help her calm down. She asked to be held after her last panic attack, I was hoping this would help, “You did fine. You didn’t fail me. You didn’t fail Marius. OK? Did it choke you?”

Nodding her head, unshed emotions in her eyes, Rhue stared back at me, but then she shook her head rapidly, “No, no you don’t understand,” pushing away from me, she stumbled back to her feet, a hint of hysteria in her tone, “You were manipulated. My wants manipulated you and made you…” Rising, I was trying to follow her logic — she wasn’t looking at me anymore, her eyes wild as she rambled on, “But you didn’t want that anymore. You don’t want me anymore. But my wants, it forced you… And Marius, too. It’s all my fault. It’s my fault,” she finally turned to look at me, her face on the verge of crumbling into guilt and despair, “I’m so sorry. I should have— I should have…” She turned away from me and walked away, muttering, “I’m so sorry.”

“Rhue, wait,” my hand slipped into hers to stall her, “It’s not your fault—”

Tugging her hand free, Rhue snapped back, “You don’t even know what is your own thoughts and what is manipulation.”

“And you do?” my hand fell back at my side.

Face crumbling, Rhue whispered, “No,” then turned to walk away, shoulders slumped.

Watching her retreating back, I murmured, “I’m not sure I understand what just happened.”

Marius stepped in beside me, watching her walk away, “That’s guilt. She blames herself.”

“Why? She has nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Maybe something the des— er Desiderium said to her? Would you like me to try?” He cast a sideways glance at me.

Sighing, “If you think it will help. I’ll pack our gear.” While Marius strolled over to Rhue to sit down on the boulder beside her, I turned on my heel and went back to the cave.

Marta fell in step beside me, “You worried me.”

“Why?”

“You realize the three of you slept for two straight days, right?”

Nearly tripping over my feet, I glanced at her, “Pardon?”

Picking up lanterns at the entrance, we lit them before entering the cave. After we passed the narrow entrance, I fell in step beside her, “Once you settled her down, and set up camp, both of you slumped in place. Initially, I tried to wake you, but when I couldn’t, I laid you both out on your sides and checked that you fogged a mirror every so often, but yes, you slept for two days. The storm cleared yesterday late afternoon. I tried to wake you again, but…” she spread her palms out.

Squatting down beside our belongings I began packing everything up. There was minimal to pack, just our bed rolls and a few extra items we thought we’d need. “Thank you, I hadn’t realize it had been that long.”

“Everything ok? She seems to be in the middle of a panic attack, and well… sleeping for two days just isn’t normal, ser.”

Swinging the saddle bags over my shoulder, Marta held out her hand for one, “Lemme help you with that, ser.”

After a moment of hesitation, I handed one over to her, then rose to walk back to the entrance of the cave, ”You’re right. She took an alchemical solution that made her sleep instead of groggy. Somehow,” I wasn’t about to share that it was a desire demon, “the three of us found ourselves in the fade, then later we woke up.”

“I would believe that was all, but she stumbled out of the cave terrified.”

“It’s the fade, all sorts of dangerous things roam the fade.” Walking back into the sunshine, I covered my eyes from the glare until my eyes accustomed to the light. Dropping off the lanterns, we headed for the horses, “At any rate, it’s time we leave for Highever. We’ve squatted here long enough.”

“Agreed.” Marta nodded, setting the saddlebag down, “My scouts spotted that bear and her cubs foraging nearby, she seems impatient to move back into her cave. I think she followed my hunters back, after they downed a deer for her. Anyway, I’ll hustle the rest. We’ll be ready to leave in a few, ser.” Fist to heart, she headed back to the cave.

Glancing to Marius and Rhue, she was still sitting on the rock, hunched in on herself, as Marius strolled back toward me with his long-legged strides, when a strong urge rolled over me to pull him into my embrace when he reached me, a hand splayed in his hair, and kiss him hard, pressing my tongue against his lips until he gasped, opening to me. Submitting to me. Giving my shoulders a roll, I shook the image from my mind. Was that left over from the fade? Or was Rhue right, was the desire demon still manipulating us? I’ve always welcomed Marius’ company, but held him at arm’s length to avoid any entanglements. Emotional or otherwise. My life belonged to the Grey Wardens, anything else was inconsequential. The thought gave me strength in my resolve, but now there was that nagging doubt in the back of my mind. What if I was wrong? A demon twenty years past, showed me my past, and what I missed and longed for, but no longer within reach. Between it, Maric, and everything else I witnessed in those Deep Roads, I saw my folly and stagnation of my life. This one showed me my possible future. What was the lesson here? Was it folly to hope?

Tilting my head, Marius stopped in front of me with a shake of his head, “Whatever happened, she’s still shook. Rambling about needing time to allow the manipulation to dwindle.”

“Wise.” From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement, and when I turned I watched Rhue walking toward the southern tree line. Pausing, she waited as a small brown blur tumbled through the undergrowth toward her. Nudging Marius, we watched as the small cub stopped in front of her and pawed at her knees. Bending down, she lifted the small creature into her arms. The cub settled its small paw on her cheek, then bumped its nose with hers; and even from here I could hear her giggle. My heart filled with emotion, and that nagging doubt in the back of my mind grew louder.

“She’s so beautiful,” Marius murmured under his breath.

The spectacle was enough to pull the eyes of all the soldiers outside toward her. Off in the tree line, the mother bear and her two other cubs sat watching, the mother bear making strange pained, pitiful sounds.

“She is,” I answered, without looking at him. Slapping his shoulder, “Saddle up. We leave immediately.”

 

* * *

 

The ride to Highever was mostly uneventful. Getting Rhue into the saddle was about as easy as setting a hundred pound uncoordinated nug on the back of a horse. She neither helped nor hindered, but it took both of us to finally get her into place; her attention was spent looking toward the bear cub. If she was communicating with the cub, she didn’t say. Her lack of response to anything I said or asked was becoming frustrating, trying my patience; I nearly yelled at her several times.

While the scenery changed little, Rhue sat silently staring ahead in the saddle, my mind wandered. First to the recalled memory from so many years ago when Riordan and I shared a night together. The first time, before he left for Montsimmard. Over the years, that one word became the calling card of disappointment and regret. Why the demon would drag this memory out, was still a mystery to me, I hadn’t thought of Riordan this way in years.

A whimper from Rhue, dragged me away from that memory, my arm circling her waist and pressing her firmly against my armored chest.

Another memory, but not mine, surfaced. Though I recognized the night in question, it was not from my eyes I viewed it. Marius followed me that night, I allowed him. He was terrible at trailing prey — but after a number of late night practices, he soon excelled. Not long after that particular night, the King’s Seneschal hired the girl as a servant at the castle; it made rendezvous with her easier, but that wasn’t the only reason I helped her. A year later, Hahren Valendrian married her off to an elf in Kirkwall. I never saw her again.

The next memory to intrude on my thoughts was harder to absorb; a young elf girl with vibrant red hair walking through the Highever alienage on bread day, the closer her small feet took her to her home, the slower they scuffed in the dirt. More than a decade had passed since this memory, some of the buildings were no longer there, burned down, or fell down from neglect, newer dilapidated buildings in their place; the faces she passed recognizable, but not all. It was the first lash of the belt that was the hardest to tolerate, overcome with emotion, it took everything in me not to weep into her hair. Anger was the next emotion, and I grasped and held to it like a starving man. But the memory continued, the brutality of the templars, the kindness of the First Enchanter, and the friendship of a young apprentice.

Calling a halt to relieve my bladder, I handed the reigns to Marius — who by this point was so deep in his hood, I could barely see his face — hopped down from Flint, and strode into the tree line until I found a small clearing.

Unsheathing my short sword and dagger, I slid my feet apart, circling the small clearing, while regulating my breathing until it was meditative. There was now a face to attach to the man who put those scars on her back, and it was that elf I imagined as my opponent on the other side of the clearing. Walking the circle with me, the ghost of an image watching my movements as I watched his. Flowing into action, a feint with the sword, a lunge with the dagger, and still I circled my imaginary opponent. How the fuck does a man do that to a child? Lunge, stab. How the fuck does a man do that to his daughter? Diagonal slice to the left, jab. That’s no man at all. Thrust, slice. That’s a monster. I know what to do against monsters. And on I went, hacking, slashing, lunging, thrusting until the sweat beaded on my forehead, and my muscles warmed and ached with use.

In the end, my arms fell to my sides, my gauntlet-hands barely holding the hilts of my weapons.

“I hope whatever it was is dead now.”

Grunting, I turned, Marius leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, the hood still pulled low, but I could see the curve of his lips; I regarded him silently as I sheathed my weapons.

“You worried Marta, she feared something happened. Are you finished attacking the air?” He was annoyed, or angry with me, but at the moment I didn’t care.

Glancing back across the clearing, the grass waved lazily, the leaves in the trees rustled, birds chirped, my opponent a child’s memory a long ways from here, “Yes.”


	27. Twenty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius is back in his home town, and meets up with an old friend.
> 
> Rhue is also from Highever, but...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 3097  
> Smut: No.

“Hey Marius! When did you arrive to town?”

“About five minutes ago,” I told DeeDee, the woman tending the bar.

Turning away, she glanced over her shoulder, “Your usual?”

“Yeah,” I said, sitting down on one of the barstools, slapped down a few silver, and slumped against the bar.

I didn’t want to think about the fade dream or the desire demon pulling the strings.

I didn’t want to think about the mage and her shitty, abusive father.

I especially didn’t want to think about Duncan and my void fucking brother, Riordan.

Instead, I watched Deedee moving around behind the bar. When she reached for the whiskey, I appreciated the way her round ass filled out the leather breaches she liked to wear. Over the years, her hips flared from childbirth, her breasts hung a little heavier from the same, and she had a few more curves than when we were kids. Flaxen blonde hair tied up in a pony tail, she had a ready smile anytime I walked into her bar. Our fathers were best friends, and they always assumed the two of us would marry someday. So much for that, huh?

Another thing I didn’t want to think about.

Setting the shot glass in front of me, Deedee poured the whiskey into the glass, then set the bottle down beside it. Leaning against the bar, her pale yellow blouse low cut to show her cleavage, a corner of her lips lifted, “What brings you to town, handsome?”

“Oh, you know, the usual Grey Warden business, looking for recruits to fight the nightmares under our feet. But now those nightmares are marching in the Korcari Wilds.”

Wincing, “Will they come this far north?”

“We hope to stop them before that. I’ll keep you safe, love.” When I looked up and grinned at her, she snorted and rolled her eyes. My fingers reached for the shot glass, shifting the glass in my fingers as I spun the bottom against the bar top. “Anyway, when are you going to run away with me, Deedee?”

Laughing, she had that deep throaty laugh that always did things to me, “Marius, you know I’m just going to give you the same answer I’ve given you the last fifteen years.” Moving away, she grabbed a washcloth from under the counter, rung it out into the bucket, and started cleaning the bar top nearby.

“What about that no good husband of yours, when is Boomer going to run away with me?”

Laughing more, she shook her head, “He’ll tell you the same. How long are you in town? I don’t think you’ve met the youngest yet.”

“Another one?” Gasping, dramatically, “How many is that, ten?”

“Threeee,” she snorted at me. When another customer came in to sit down at the far end of the bar, she dropped the towel in the bucket, and went to greet them. Acquaintances, by the sound of their conversation.

Our banter wasn’t always this friendly. There was a time she wouldn’t speak to me. Eighteen, sitting in a jail cell, she came prancing down the corridor to my cell, all sass and fire, and peered at me with amber eyes. She was livid, hands on her hips, at sixteen, stick thin, she was still growing into her curves. Seeing her there made my heart ache, I didn’t want her to see me like that. “Did you do it? Did you kill that man?”

Head hung low, my eyes tilted up to look at her, but I didn’t say anything. Anything I said would sound like a pitiful excuse to her.

“You did, didn’t you. I know that guilty look, Marius.” Huffing, she paced back and forth in front of my cell, “All you had to do was get your shit together, to get and keep a respectable job, so my papa would finally approve. And you done this?”

“I’m sorry, Deedee.”

“I’m sorry, Deedee,” she mocked. Planting her feet in front of the jail cell, she pointed her finger at me, “If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done it, Marius. From the stories, you planned this. No one could get a drop on that old miser on a whim or accident.”

“That’s true,” I looked back down at the ground in front of me. Three months of planning, and only caught because his youngest daughter had walked in on me, a bloody knife in hand; I refused to kill a child, so I told her not to say anything, and fled the scene.

Scoffing, she whirled around, unable to look at me, but she didn’t leave. Huffing under her breath, she finally turned back around to stare at me. “Marius,” she waited until I looked up, “This?” her hand waving at the cell and me, “ It changes everything. Boomer’s been asking me to marry him when I turn eighteen. I finally told him yes.” Spinning on her heel, she stalked off. When the sound of her footfalls receded and a door slammed shut, I slumped, sobbing silently into my hands. That was the nail in the coffin of my old life

The following morning as I stood on the gallows, noose draped around my neck, I was ready to meet the Maker. Off at the far edge of the crowd, I saw Boomer. Big fellow, he was hard to miss. Standing beside him, she had her back turned, her flaxen blonde hair in a ponytail. When Duncan called out a halt, she finally looked my way. When Duncan conscripted me, I could have sworn she smiled before she strode away, Boomer trailing after her. Three kids later, I hoped she was happy.

“Are you going to drink that?”

Dragging me out of another shitty memory, I glanced up to Deedee looking at me, “Eventually. A bunch of crap on my mind which I planned on drowning with whiskey and women. Since you’re still telling me no, I think I’ll find someone more amiable.”

Chuckling, she shook her head, ”You’ll never change, will you?”

Grinning, “Probably not,” but when I thought about Rhue and Duncan, my grin faded.

Ringing out the rag, she glanced up, “Come on by later, the kids would love to see you. Boomer, too.”

Nodding, I brought the shot to my lips, but the first whiff of whiskey under my nose and images of an elf with a belt, the sting of leather and metal against flesh, and the stench of whiskey on his breath — nausea threatened to expel whatever was in my stomach. Setting the shot glass down, I left without drinking it.

“Marius?”

Waving away the concern, I pushed the door open and out into the street.

 

* * *

 

“Miss Warden, of course I can tell you how to get there,” the elf servant, with hair atop her head in a messy, black bun, her tapered fingers pushing the stray strands back into it, but failing as the ends tumbled back down. Stepping out into the small courtyard, she rubbed her hands down her apron, then pointed down the street, “Just follow this street to the main one. Up hill takes you to the castle, but you want to go downhill. Just follow it all the way to the gate. Once beyond the gate, go to the vhenadahl tree. Hahren lives south of it. You can’t miss it.”

Sounds simple, right? But here I stood on some busy intersection wondering when I lost my way with those directions.

“Move it!”

“Out of the way, knife ear!”

“Another elf, shirking her duty.”

Elbowed, bumped into, and pushed to the side, people (humans, mostly, and a surly dwarf) moved past me determined to travel wherever they were going. A horse reared in front of me and I skittered to the side and flattened my back against a wall, my hand to my chest to calm my startled heart. Pushing up on tip toes, I tried to see which way was back to the inn. Dejected and feeling like a failure that I couldn’t follow those simple instructions; and add the fact, I couldn’t see the castle anymore. How could a city make a castle disappear?

“LOOK OUT BELOW!” Someone bellowed above my head, I jumped out of the way in time to avoid the waterfall of excrement being dumped into the sewage drain. Gagging, I moved further down the lane.

“Rhue? Rhue!”

I turned, ignoring the grumbling of people pushing past me, trying to find where the sound of the voice was coming from when Sergeant Marta appeared at my elbow, “Are you ok? You look lost.”

“Blessed Maker! You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” I gushed, feeling relief flood through me as I clutched the Sergeant’s arm. “Please tell me you know how to navigate this city?”

Pulling me out of the middle of foot traffic, we stopped in front of a store front,, “Yes, yes, of course. Where do you need to go?”

“I was trying to find the alienage, but then I got turned around, and now I don’t even know where the inn is. We’re staying at the Good Knight’s Embrace.”

“Oh, I know the place, you’re not far from there. Many of the visiting dignitary and Knights stay there when they arrive, unless the Teryn invites them to stay at the castle. It’s two streets that way,” she pointed west, or was that south? Looking up, tall buildings three and four stories high around me, I couldn’t determine where the sun was in the sky. Glancing down the street, she pointed in another direction, “And there is the main boulevard, see it?”

All I saw was a crush of humanity moving in each direction, a flow of color and smells that made me dizzy, “Yes… Maybe… I think…” I whispered feebly.

“Look, I was going shopping, but I can do that later,” when her eyes brightened and a look of excitement lit up her face, “Hey, I know! I can take you to the alienage and back to the inn, but tomorrow, why don’t you come shopping with me. If you would like, of course. I know where the Circle magic shop is, and there’s an apothecary shop not far from there.”

“I would love that! Duncan said he would be spending most of his time at the castle, and this city…” I glanced back to the street full of hangry people going about their business; just thinking about the daunting task of trying to navigate it’s streets was discouraging me from trying, “I was born here, in Highever, but I… I don’t remember any of this.”

“Then I’ll be your guide. I was stationed here for a number of years.” Marta tucked my hand under her arm and lead me out into the street, “I know my way around, and most people move when they see my uniform.” True to word, most people moved out of her way, if they saw her, and apologized profusely if they hadn’t and accidentally bumped into us. They saved their scowls for me.

Walked down the street, arm-in-arm, she would point out different shops, “That one, the bakery, has the best pies in Fereldan. The apple pie is to die for. But that bakery, has some of the best bread. Oh, and that one has a great shepherd’s pie. Sooo filling.”

The baking of bread goods filled the air and made my mouth water with hunger, “It all smells so good,” I didn’t stop her from the end goal: to reach the alienage. Maybe I could ask Duncan or Marius to bring me back later.

Pointing down another busy street, “Down that way is the wharf, and the fish markets. If you go first thing in the morning, the fisherfolk are arriving with their loads, so the fish are the freshest, but it’s also the busiest.”

“I think I’ll skip that.”

“Probably wise. It smells dreadful.”

Soon, we were passing through the spice market, a collection of shops, carts, and traders sitting on colorful blankets selling different spices, teas, flowers or their essential oils, fruits, and nuts from all over Thedas. It made my nose itch, and several occasions I thought I was going to die from a sneezing fit.

“If you like tea, this is definitely the place to find it. Better than Denerim, surprisingly,” Marta commented, as we made our way quickly through the maze of hawkers, half dragging me any time I started to sneeze.

“Isn’t Denerim larger? Wouldn’t it be better there?”

“You would think so, but we have a higher influx of Northern Thedans coming here, Antiva, Rivain,..” Thoughtful, she shook her head, “But many don’t stay long. Fereldan winters are harsh. They usually leave for Orlais. But the spice market remains popular.”

Passing through this section of the main boulevard, there was a cacophony of color from the various spices on display.

“The Brewsters are down that way,” she pointed in the opposite direction of the wharf, “And several taverns, too. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Shaking my head, we kept walking.

We passed a square with a statue of two people beside a large stone, their hand’s outstretched to shake hands, “That’s a statue of King Calahan Theirin and Teyrna Elethea Cousland, after she surrendered and accepted his terms. Most festivals are held in this square. It’s always a wild time, with plenty of drinking and dancing. If a couple’s family is wealthy enough, they’ll get married at the chantry,” she pointed in its direction, I could see the tops of it over towering most of the buildings in this part of the neighborhood, “then the procession will come here for the celebration. Again, wild times.”

Gazing up at the statues, I doubted the celebrations and festivals were open to the elves, unless they helped serve the drinks.

The next section of the main boulevard housed shop fronts and small warehouses of seamstresses, clothiers, weavers, and other textile laborers. “The Circle’s magic shop isn’t far from here. It’ll be our first stop tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“You could buy some new robes, then have their seamstress alter it for you. We’re here for a few days, at least,” she glanced at me, her eyes tilting down the length of me. She didn’t need to say it, I knew my robes were too voluminous for my small frame, and any alterations in length were done by me. “Or do you get free robes from the Circle?”

Shaking my head, “I’m a warden now, but I’ll look into it,” but that’s all I could do. When I left the Circle, I left with no funds of my own, and relied completely on Duncan— I doubted he had anything extra for clothing. That seemed like a frivolous expense.

As we walked closer and closer to the open gates of the alienage, the less foot traffic on the streets, until we stood outside them, the street mostly empty except a returning elf or two. Posted on either side, two guards leaned lazily against the wall, one looking at us with interest that made me feel uncomfortable.

“Marta, is that you?”

“Jaek!” Marta stepped forward and they clasped forearms, “Good to see you again!”

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Arrived today. Hey, this is Rhue, she’s a warden, but needed help finding the alienage.”

“She has the right point to her ears, I don’t see why not,” Jaek said, staring at me a moment longer before returning his attention to Marta, “We’re keeping the humans out, but you’re allowed.”

“Troubles lately?”

“When aren’t there?”

“Rhue, why don’t you go ahead. I’ll sit here and catch up with Jaek.” Marta offered a warm smile, “You’ll be fine. It’s straight down the street to the tree. The Hahren lives near there. Just ask for him.”

“You’ll be here —”

“RHUE! RHUE!”

Looking around, I didn’t see who was calling my name. Marta pointed up to one of the windows on the third floor. A red headed elf, probably around my age, was waving frantically. “I’ll be right down! Don’t go anywhere!” She slammed the window down, and the lacy curtains fell back into place.

“Do you know who that is?” Marta asked.

Staring up at the window, I shook my head, “Not a clue.”

“It’s the brothel, whoever she is,” Jaek offered, resting his thumbs on his belt.

It was a nondescript building, and nothing about it seemed to indicate its business, just a very large residence at the end of the main boulevard. We waited, the three of us, for the elf to come barreling out the door on the first floor. The girl was out of breath as she jogged up to me, stopped before she ran us all over, pressing her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “Thank you for waiting. Hey, Jaek.”

“Sure,” with a bewildered glance to Marta who shrugged.

“Hey, kid,” he muttered, “Staying out of trouble?”

“Trying.” Rising, she was about my height, in other words, short, like me, “Sorry, to keep you. But someone asked me to stall you.”

“What? Stall me? Why?” I glanced back at the brothel, wondering who inside _there_ would want to talk to me.

Shrugging, she pointed to the alienage, “Are you headed there? I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m here to see the Hahren, do you know where I could find him?” Shifting in place, I felt a little awkward, not sure if I wanted to stick around for some _weird unknown_ within a brothel to finally reveal themself.

“Sure, I’ll show you the way,” she glanced back at the door, then to me, “It’s not far. Did the guard escort you?” her eyes, a violet-grey combination, flicked to Marta.

“We’re traveling together.”

She bobbed her head, glanced at the door, hummed, then asked, “Are you from one of the other alienages?”

Shaking my head, “The Circle, now a warden-recruit.”

Scratching her chin, “Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

Blinking at her, I wondered how that could make any sense to her. The sound of the door shutting pulled my attention back to the brothel. Stepping down the steps and into the street, Marius strode toward us with a sheepish expression, his boots scuffing across cobblestone as he approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beckily, I present to you the One That Got Away, and the reason Marius waited until he was a warden (it came to me in a dream when I was waking up). Marius was holding that one back, I don't blame him, it hurt to write.
> 
> Inuy asked for more Rhue and Marta friendship development, and I couldn't resist. 
> 
> I hope my description of HIghever is realistic enough? I know it's a much smaller city than Denerim, but I liked the idea that Duncan's mom's parents might have left Rivain for Highever, and that's where his dad met her. Then I started wondering if many others had done the same, ya know? It's the inspiration for the spice market.  
> I roughly used this map by Waltrius @ DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/waltrius/art/Dragon-Age-Highever-Map-762450003 (Thank you!) Because there is so little information about Highever.


	28. Twenty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion. Of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 2850  
> smut: no

 

Laughing, Marta was wheezing, nevertheless I missed the missive of why this was amusing.  
  
Halting, Marius’ shoulders sagged forward, and his mass of wet curls fell forward into his face. Frowning at Marta, he shifted his attention to me, his expression softening, eyebrows lifted in uncertainty, “Hey. Sorry I took off.”  
  
“Huh,” that was the extent of my vocabulary, I had no notion how to respond. My reflections were elsewhere, reaching the alienage, speaking to the Hahren, inquiring about my past — but this? — this felt like I was struck in the face with the broadside of a claymore. And I didn’t know how to discern that, at all.  
  
Marta continued to chortle, “You didn’t need to leave your entertainments, warden. I have this covered.”  
  
Toeing the ground with his boot, he mumbled, “I’m done.”  
  
“I’d say! It must have been quite the vigorous workout to produce so much sweat upon your brow and drench your hair,” Marta teased with a broad grin, flicking imaginary hair from her face in a melodramatic gesture. Jaek stood beside her, snickering, and the young woman giggled behind her hand.  
  
Head popping up, Marius’s eyes grew wide, “What? No—”  
  
Turning back to the young woman, voice obnoxiously cheerful, even to my ears, “So! You said you would take me to the Hahren?” There was only so much I could handle and their banter was not one of them.  
  
Bobbing her head, “Yes, of course. This way, lethallan.”  
  
“I’ll be here when you return, Warden Rhue,” Marta called behind me as I followed the girl, “Enjoy your reunion!”  
  
Casting a wave behind me, we walked past the large, open gates. The road narrowed, the cobblestone ended into dirt and pebbles — puddles in the low places after the recent rains — and the homes a mutated version of the human neighborhoods; dilapidated, run down, a mis-mash of materials barely holding up the hovels and shacks.  
  
The girl walked beside me, a crunch of boots on gravel as Marius trailed behind us; I cast her a sideways glance, “You know my name, but I didn’t catch yours.”  
  
“Crimson,” Marius blurted out, “Anise,” she answered at the same time.  
  
“Anise. Huh,” he muttered, a hitch of curiosity in his tone.  
  
“Anise? Like the flower?” I asked, ignoring him and observing a gathering of Elven teens knocking on someone’s door. When the door opened, a boy, no older than fifteen leaned against the door jamb; he waved at Anise, then invited the small group of teens inside.  
  
Waving to them, she shrugged, “For the shems, sure. You heard about Sylaise, yeah?”  
  
Hesitating, a flicker of memory from when I was a child and my mother telling me bedtime stories, I nodded, “The Elvhen pantheon, I think, but I remember none of the stories.”  
  
Making a face, her response clipped, “Like a hearth keeper,” she shrugged again, her head turned to her side of the lane, waving to those we passed, and seemed disinterested in further conversation.

Awkward silence followed us when a curve in the lane brought the huge oak tree, the vhenadahl, into view. Ribbons, colorful trinkets, ropes of beads adorned the trunk and branches, whereas they decorated the base with candles and the remnants of offerings. A snippet of remembrance of the legend of the vhenadahl, but the story was lost to my vague, childhood memories; i retained the impression of community I experienced among the other children and adults of the alienage. The tree was so much larger, grander, when I was a child.  
  
“Rhue, I—” Marius started.  
  
“I didn’t ask,” I snapped, a little more impatiently than I intended.  
  
The brief interaction must have startled Anise because she glanced at me, then over her shoulder at him, before returning her attention back to the homes.  
  
Sighing, he fell silent and continued to follow behind me, his boots crunching on the gravel. The rest of the walk through the alienage remained uncomfortable and silent. Wincing, I would need to apologize later for my snappishness.  
  
The narrow road opened into a circular public area with the oak tree as its center; kids played in the streets, adults spoke in small groups, while others headed to their destinations. It was less hectic here, fewer crowds, less busy; the life in an alienage a harsher existence, but kinder; or so it seemed, but I realized how much of an outsider I was now.  
  
In the middle of all the activity, a lone older elf sat on a bench, a white, thin braid snaking over his shoulder and down his chest, his eyes a rich, deep brown, bright and alert, and a blueish facial tattoo across his forehead. Favoring us with a pleased smile, he rose as we approached and stopped in front of him.  
  
“Marius, great to see you again,” up close he was taller than most elves I knew, not much shorter than Marius. Reaching out, he shook hands with the warden.  
  
“Threhon, it’s good to see you again. You still look as young as ever.”  
  
The older elf laughed, his lips splitting into a wide grin, “Flatterer. I thought all the wardens would be in Ostagar by now.”  
  
Gesturing, Marius smiled at me, a hint of pride in his expression, "One last pass to find recruits. We picked up Rhue at Kinloch Hold. There’s a small tourney going on this week at the Keep, we‘re hoping to discover another."  
  
Threhon turned and smiled affectionately, “Ahh, it’s good to have one of our own represented with the Grey Wardens. It’s truly an honor, da’len.”  
  
“Thank you, ser,” his smile was infectious, it was hard not to smile back.  
  
“Hahren, she was asking for you,” Anise piped up, “I escorting her here, but I’m going home now. Long day. Bye Marius.”  
  
“Greetings, Hahren, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Rhunae Surana.”  
  
Before she spun to leave, Anise choked, Marius stepped over to her and patted her back with his palm, but ceased when she waved him away.

“Andaran atish’an, da’len,” his grin stretched wide, “Look at you, you’ve grown into a lovely young lady. Come with me where we can speak privately. Marius, you too. Anise, go find your mother.”

* * *

  
  
Inside Threhon’s one-room hovel, Threhon invited the pair of us to sit down at the table while he poured out water from a jug into tin cups, explaining that one youngster had recovered a particular porous rock while out scavenging for herbs, intending it for a specific use. Conspiratorially, he opened the cabinet to reveal a large, bell shaped, grey rough rock that narrowed at the bottom, under the cabinet was a receptacle to capture the water dripping down into it. He explained it helped filter the bad taste out of the well water as he arrayed the mugs down in front of us. The weight shifted one end of the table and wobbled to the side. Sighing, he muttered about shoddy craftsmanship while he found a piece of cloth and wedged it under the leg.  
  
Taking a seat, Threhon took a sip from his cup, “What brings you back, Rhunae?” he blinked, shook his head, “I’m sorry, that sounded insensitive. Few children taken by the Templars ever return home. I suspect you wish to see your parents?”  
  
“Yes, please.” Taking a sip of water, and found it better than I remembered, “For the last few days, as we traveled closer to Highever, I had nightmares of the day I left. I was hoping you could shed light on that day, and… if my mom is still here, if I could see her again?”  
  
The door burst open when two identical looking women with fiery red hair enter the room, Anise trailing on their heels. The younger woman closed the door while the twins marched up to me. The first one dragged me from my chair, her tapered fingers, the pads rough from hard work, gripped my chin and angled my head from side to side. “She looks just like her.”  
  
“She has her hair color,” the other acknowledged, peering into my face.  
  
“And her eyes,”  
  
As I glared back at the double image, I noted they both had similar green eyes as mine.  
  
“Lips are his.”  
  
“Not everyone can be perfect.”  
  
“And maybe even the ears.”  
  
“Linise, Leena, ladies, please. She recently arrived,” Threhon sounded exasperated, “Sit, all of you, I don’t want to crick my neck staring up at you three.”  
  
Once they freed me and allowed me to sit back down, I rubbed my chin, hoping she didn’t leave a mark with her nails. Marius rose and offered his chair to one twin, scooted her chair in once she sat down, then leaned against the nearest wall.  
  
“She’s your aunt Leena,” the one that seized my chin said, “Anise, be a dear, and put the tea on.”

“Yes, mamae.” As she approached the kitchenette section of the single room, Marius pushed off the wall and followed her. Helping her, he fetched the cups while she poured water into the teakettle, using the same water filtered through the grey rock.  
  
“She’s your aunt Linise,” the other responded, “Anise, don’t forget the honey and cream.”  
  
“Yes, auntie,” the younger elf replied, as she took the teakettle to the fireplace and set it into the hot coals, while Marius looked for the sugar and cream.  
  
“And Anise is my cousin,” I asked, all three nodded in unison, “Ahh.”  
  
Rubbing one hand with the other, Threhon spoke soberly, resuming our conversation after the chaos of the twins calmed, “I can offer you the explanation I heard before I arrived to your home, da’len. It’s probably as you experienced it, too. It was a sad day for the alienage, to have one of our own taken by the Templars.”  
  
“It’s true?” Linise asked, “You can perform magic?”  
  
“Show us a magic trick?” the other sister urged.  
  
“Leena!” Linise gasped, incensed, but glanced back at me fully expecting me to pluck a nug out of my hat. Or whatever. Nevermind I had neither.  
  
“Ladies,” Hahren grumbled, glancing at me with an apologetic expression, “My apologies Rhunae, but it’s not everyday one of our own comes home from the Circle.”  
  
Glancing between the two women, then to Threhon, I grinned as I tugged mana from the fade and created a small fire top, and spun it across the table, watching it make whorling burn patterns across the surface of the table; a gesture and the top disappeared into a wisp of smoke.  
  
“My table.”  
  
“… Is fine, Hahren. Now you can brag about it…” Linise said.  
  
“… when you entertain guests,” Leena finished.  
  
“Where is my mother now? Why is she not here?”  
  
The three elders looked between themselves, Linise and Leena to each other than to Threhon, and finally to their hands. Anise made a strangled noise as she set the cups down on the table, Marius glanced up at Anise, then to the elders, his expression growing confused.  
  
Sighing, Threhon his eyes sympathetic, “I’m sorry, da’len, but she died when you were still a child.”  
  
“You mean that murderous bastard killed her,” Anise snapped.  
  
“Hush, da’len.”  
  
“No, mother. She deserves the truth!”  
  
“Don’t you ‘No, Mother’ me, child.”  
  
Mother and daughter stared each other down, Linise’s eyes narrowed, an eyebrow lifted, and her lips pressed into a thin line, and it was the daughter, still defiant, yielded first, her voice softer, “Yes, mamae,” she returned to the hearth to retrieve the tea kettle just as it whistled, startling us out of the tension.

The conversation returned to my mother and completely avoided any other mentions of my father or his side of the family, Anise finished preparing the tea — a black tea, a little bitter, but the honey and cream helped, Marius resigned himself to holding up the wall, and the aunties had a curious interest in magic for people lacking in the ability, but I was delighted to share.  
  
A bell chimed in the distance.  
  
Threhon looked up toward the door, “That is the first warning bell before curfew.” Rising from his chair, “Come, da’len, the gates will close on the third chime, let me escort you back to the gate.” We left Hahren’s home and walked up the street. Hahren walked beside me, his hands clasped behind him, the aunties behind us, and Anise and Marius taking up the rear, the pair of them with their heads close whispering. “We have one more stop before the gate. I know we didn’t discuss him, but I thought it would be better if you saw him.”  
  
“My father?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And if I don’t want to see him?”  
  
Glancing at me, he gestured toward a hovel to my right; I recognized it right away, a broken down dilapidated hut that looked better a dozen years ago. Sitting outside the door, an older man twice my age hunched over a tin cup. Legs thin from lack of use, eyes shrouded with a stained cloth, his head tilted as we approached; a voice dusty from lack of use gasped, “Alms.”  
  
The aunties tensed, Anise uttered a few choice curses that a sailor would be proud of, and Threhon sighed.  
  
“Is this him? I — I think I recognize him.”  
  
“Da’len, this is your papae. After your mamae died, he went down to the docks to drink, involved himself in a scuffle, and some guard dropped him off at the gate. The altercation left him crippled and his eyesight gone.”  
  
Stepping closer, I crouched before him, studying him, nose scrunching from the stench rolling off him, “Does anyone care for his wellbeing?”  
  
“I bring bread and leftovers. No one else comes here,” Threhon replied quietly, “And when the weather turns sour, I make sure he gets inside.”  
  
“Rh-Rhunae? Is that you, girl? Come here, ashalan, let me touch your hands.”  
  
Recoiling, I avoided his stretched out hands, “Sufficient. But, this is not my papae.”  
  
“Rhunae, but—” Hahren blinked in bewilderment, “There’s no other. Zatrad is your father. I was there when you were born, outside the room, waiting for the midwife to present you.”  
  
“Was he there, too?” I asked Threhon.  
  
Shaking his head, “No, he was at the tavern.”

Glaring, “A papae would not behave the way this man did with me and my mamae. I do not claim him as family. I shun him.” Rising, “Whatever happens to him, I care not.” What startled me the most, is how little I cared for this man, I endured no anger or scorn. I did, once, I despised him, and furious how he treated me and mamae. But staring down at him now,… nothing. Maybe pity. But nothing more.  
  
“Rhunae? I’m so sorry, da’len. I was a young fool. Your sweet mother. I never meant — I never wanted—”  
  
“Tell it to the Maker.”  
  
The man sighed, this crippled man, once so strong and threatening, the one who harmed me, “She deserved better than I could ever give her. You both did. I was foolish and full of pride. I would beg for your forgiveness, but I know I do not deserve it.”  
  
I stared at him with a horrified fascination.  
  
“Would you not seize this chance to reconcile?” Marius asked quietly, darting glances between me and the man sitting next to his shack, “Would you let angry words be the only thing left between you both?”  
  
“In my youth, I could not assuage what I wanted, with what I needed and the duty to our People,” his head bowed, “Until it was too late,” and sobbed into his hands.  
  
Was his repentance sincere? Looking at him, I could not ascertain if he was genuine or the ambition to climb out of his current horrid situation. But this man, Zatrad Surana, the man whom married my mamae, my father, my papae, was tugging at long buried emotions. My child-self from long ago wanted his affection, the affirmation of his love, but never received. My child-self wanted to believe him. All I knew was contempt and abuse. Was this remorse, or was this another way to dig under my skin and hurt me again?  
  
The bell from the chantry chimed again.  
  
A sob caught in my throat; turning, I plucked up my robes, and sprinted for the gates. My aunties and Threhon called for me, but I rushed up the street, memories and emotions hounding my steps. Someone ran with me, I suspected it was Marius.  
  
Running through the open gate, one guard was closing one side of the gates, whereas Jaek stood beside the other, waving in elves. I pushed past them all to the other side where Marta was still waiting for us. When Anise called his name, Marius halted before he crossed the threshold of the gates.  
  
The chantry bell chimed a third time.  
  
“Come on, warden. We’re about to close the gates,” Jaek called out to Marius.  
  
“Oh, good! I worried I might have to find you and usher you back out,” Marta greeted me with a smile, a moment later Marius came through the gate as Jaek was closing it.

 

* * *

 

Museo Arqueologico UNT, Trujillo, Peru

I wanted to show a visual, and to show off one of my crappy photos from my trip to Peru. I think it's sandstone? That or granite? I can't recall. I was there in 2014. But that rock there, filters water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired of staring at this.  
> I have unresolved daddy issues. Nothing as glaring as Rhue, but since my dad passed away 5 years ago, it's just one of those... unresolved 'well, shit' sort of things. But that also means I am having trouble dragging that emotion into the open and airing it out. I hope you could at least glimpse the train wreck of emotion, if not witness the full depth of crippling angst I was going for.
> 
> ~~o~~
> 
> Elvhen Vocabulary
> 
> An'daran Atish'an = Greetings, Welcome, The place you go is a safe place || Used with: Anyone, formal  
> ashalan = n. f. daughter  
> Da’len = child  
> Hahren = elder  
> Lethallin/Lethallan/Lethallen = Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar; generally, lethallin is used for males while lethallan is used for females; lethallen has been stated to be the appropriate gender neutral term unless otherwise stated later in canon, though it is likely to remain the same.  
> Mamae = mother  
> Papae = father (fandom popular version)  
> Tuelanen i'na = Creators be with you || Used with: Anyone, Formal or informal
> 
>  
> 
> Elvhen Names:  
> Leena = she who appears to shine. From the words: lea (to shine, to glitter, to light) + ena (to begin, to emerge, to appear)  
> Liani (shortened form of Leilani) = (f.) she who helps with shining thoughts. From the words: lea (to shine, to glitter) + sil (thought, mind) + halani (help).  
> Linise = child of fire. From the words: lin/lan/len (person, female person, male person) + ise (fire); Alternate spellings: Lenise (m.), Lanise (f.)  
> Threhon = (i can't even recall where I found this - but when I try to piece it together through FenxShiral, it comes up meaning something nonsensical)  
> Zatrad (from Satrad) = Sa n. single, one + trad n. herd, brood, flock, horde)
> 
> Thanks to FenxShiral at Ao3, and the DA Wiki


	29. Twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highever is gearing up for Satinalia, and Rhue is getting into the festive mood, despite recent complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1898  
> Smut: No.

 

Over the next couple days, I managed to avoid uncomfortable conversations with both Marius and Duncan.

Off taking care of other duties, I rarely saw the Commander, while Marius moved out of the inn room we shared, I wasn’t certain where he was sleeping. Probably with Anise somewhere. I shouldn’t care, he made his choice, but it hurt something awful every time I saw him. The pit of my belly balled up into a tight knot and stayed that way for the next couple hours. Agonizing.

Marta helped me navigate the city when she took me shopping. Helpful, because later she agreed to guard duty with the city Captain for extra funds, her and her squadron. It allowed me a chance to explore the city alone and recognized several of the soldiers while out and about. At one point, one stopped me and suggested I go a different direction. Later, I learned there was a murder.

Satinalia began the day after we arrived, which I thought strange, since I thought it was at the end of the week.

The first parade featured Teryn Cousland, returning from recruiting in the bannorns and the villages in between, the Arl Howe at his side. The Teryn’s son and daughter rode behind in gleaming armor, and a lacquered, decorated carriage bearing his wife, daughter-in-law, and grandson, the boy waving to the crowd with unbridled glee. Unfortunately, I was too far to see their faces, but from where I stood, the Arl seemed thin and greasy. The rest of the procession of Knights, soldiers, and the newly enlisted, hardy farm boys and girls, gathered for the festive celebration before they departed to fight the Blight. Marta informed me ‘over eighteen’ was the requirement for new recruits, but there were a couple boys at the end of that procession that looked no older than fifteen. It could be their last Satinalia, it could be mine, and the overall tone of the procession felt somber, despite the smiles on some of the youngest recruits. (You could just imagine the images of glory behind their eyes.)

When the Teryn reached the make-shift stage in the square facing the Keep, I assumed the future announcement of a city-wide fast, and an over-filled Chantry by the end of the week. The Teryn clambered atop the stage with his family, the Arl following, but seemed to set himself apart from the family. It was then Teryn Cousland announced the start of the week-long celebrations. The day after Satinalia ended, the first wave of soldiers would depart for the south under the command of one of his Captains. His son, Fergus, would lead the next group, and when the Arl’s men arrived, he and the Arl would lead the last group of the soldiers to Ostagar. That was the plan. Everyone cheered. One last hoorah before setting off for war.

Did I mention Satinalia was an entire week? A WEEK. Of Celebrating.

At the Circle, we spent the day before and the day of fasting and on our knees in humble, pious prayers at the chapel, then that evening we broke our fast with a small feast and the exchange of gifted trinkets. It was a quiet affair. Solemn. Sober.

But a week?! The town crier announced later the week’s festivities; parades! masks! libatious drinking! and food. So much food! Tables arranged throughout Highever, each brimming with the evening’s focus; food and drink symbolizing the hope for the new year, such as good health, good luck, family, friends, and whatnot. And free! The Teryn opened his warehouse stores and was feeding the city each evening. Even the elves. And this happened every single year! I was too young to remember this! Did this happen before I went to the Circle? Marius would know, I could—

— Or I could just wonder…

While out searching for gifts last night, I sampled the almond wine paired with mincemeat pie for good luck and strength. Maker, help me, but I never thought food could send me to heaven, it was so gloriously delicious. The wine made me giddy; I ended up going to bed early. Unfortunately, I missed the mageworks, slept right through it.

During the day, the tournaments of strength, archery, agility played out at the tournament grounds outside the city. Knights and newcomers alike tested their skill against similar ranked. Even Cousland’s son and daughter competed.

Duncan insisted I attend the first day, then offered me a small pouch of money, my first pay as a recruit, to spend on what I wanted. Yesterday, I showed up briefly at the tournament grounds, but the silence between Marius and I was becoming uncomfortable, so I slipped away. If Duncan noticed, he said nothing.

Vuna, the cook’s help at the inn and the one to direct me to the alienage the first day, was becoming a fast friend. She was on double duty because of the festivities, and didn’t always have time to socialize, but I helped her out here and there. She fed the cats in the back alley the scraps in the mornings, but rarely had time this week.

The first morning in town, mixing the concoction, I dipped my finger in the green pulp to taste it on my tongue. Fresh, it was just enough to settle my mind to the right dozy degree, without passing out. Then I fed the cats. They were a chatty bunch, and once they realized I had a rudimentary understanding, it was hard to keep up with them. The squirrel in the tree was rude, I don’t know what he ‘said’, but I think he swore in every squirrelly language from here to Tevinter.

When I spoke with Vuna afterwards, she retrieved an old box of walnuts from the basement storage for me. After cracking a few open yesterday, I left them in the tree the squirrel frequented, and left it as a symbolic truce.

After feeding the cats the meat scraps this morning, I left another couple cracked walnuts for the squirrel, then waited for the mixture to kick in. Just a taste on the tip of my tongue. This was my third morning; it seemed enough and didn’t last long. It was a strange sensation to fade into their conversation as the world faded to shades of grey, but it was becoming easier to figure out what the cats were ‘talking’ about. The birds were chittering on about some fish down in the harbor, when the group took flight at once, while the squirrel had nothing to say. At least he wasn’t swearing and cursing my great grandchildren. A shadow passed, and a shiver raced down my spine. Still in that trance-like daze, I decided it was a perfect time to return to the kitchen with the empty bowl. It was the third time I felt like something was watching me.

Not paying attention to where I was walking, I smacked head first into a broad armored chest. Glancing up, Marius grinned down at me, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Marius.”

“Rhue,” his lips stretched into a wide grin. Why did he have such a charming smile? This was so not fair, “I thought you were sleeping. What are you doing out here so early?”

“Feeding the cats,” I said, lifting the bowl to show it streaked with the sticky remains, my weight shifting from one foot to the other.

“Oh, Marta is here, waiting for you in the common room. Wait… Why are you feeding the cats?”

“Because I wanted to? To listen,” a flick of my eyes darted to the movement by the gate leading to the training dummies, Anise leaned against the fence, arms crossed staring at us.

“You’re not taking that stuff again, are you?”

Returning my gaze back to him, he was frowning, his eyebrows pinched together. Grey eyes returned to icy blue, and felt a lump in my belly flop. Fuck. I needed to do something about this. Licking my lips, “Just a taste on the end of my tongue, it’s already fading.”

“Hmm,” he eyed me speculatively, his eyes dropping to my lips, “Ok, as long as you don’t take too much.”

“No, no, I won’t. Oh, so, chat a sec,” he smiled that devastating smile again. Fuck! I loved his smile. No, no, go through with it. “Anise is here.”

He nodded.

If I didn’t say it now, I would lose my nerve, just as he was opening his mouth to comment, I rushed my words, “So, like, I was thinking,” and hoping I was coherent, “Ya know, no drama, I understand why the whole mage thing, and of course, the whole demon thing, can be alarming and weird, so no hard feelings and all.”

His smile faded.

“We’re working together, against darkspawn, so yeah, no drama, and I’m thrilled for you, you know, to be happy, right? And Anise. That’s great!” Was that too optimistic? Fuck. “Anyway, I should go. Marta is waiting. Good luck! Say hi to my cousin! Uhm,… see ya.” Darting past him, I jogged the rest of the way to the back entrance through the kitchen to return the bowl.

“Rhue, wait!”

My eyes were stinging. Setting the bowl down, I called out, “See ya later, Vuna,” and sped out of the kitchen.

Why was this hurting so much? To the hallway, my shoulder slid the length of the wall as I pressed my palms to my eyes, damming the emotional pain from spilling from my eyes. This was fine, right? This was the right response? He already moved on. That’s why she was here, right? Not just a hookup at the brothel, but something more? That’s what all those whispers at the alienage were about? Why would he want a mage, anyway? One that forced him to face a demon in the fade, for fuck’s sake. Of course, he was better off being as far away from me as possible. It was only logical. Why did it hurt so fucking much?

Looking up, I stopped before the common room, composed myself, glanced behind me to check if I was followed — I wasn’t — then stepped into the common room, smiling and waving to Marta.

“There you are!” Marta greeted me, handing me a small package. “Something to get you started with the festivities. I noticed you didn’t have one. Go ahead, open it.” She grinned widely, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Frowning, I opened the brown packaging to reveal a red, fur mask. A black round nose, white fluff around the nose and ‘eyebrows’, but the rest was a cherry red. The triangular ears were a pale off white/orange-y color. “Is it… a cat?”

Marta shook her head, “I’ve only seen them in picture books, but it’s a red panda. Nobles have them imported from Tevinter, but I don’t think they are native there, either. Seheron, maybe?"

With her help tying the straps, I slid the mask over my face until I was peering out through the eyeholes.

“Oh, that’s perfect, and it matches your hair so well! Anyway, my shift just ended and I’m exhausted.” Marta waved and darted back out the front door. Following, while she headed in the direction I assumed were the barracks, I headed out into the traffic to continue my search for Satinalia gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent far too much time looking up different foods/drinks and their symbolic meaning. >.<


	30. Commissioned FanArt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commissions, Giveaways, and Freebies by some wonderful artists.  
> Image heavy chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of these soo soo much!  
> If you have a chance to commission these artists, please do! I highly recommend! 
> 
> NSFW art begins at the line.
> 
> Posted in no particular order (except the nsfw at the end).

In no particular order....

Marius, Rhunae  
Kofi Commission  
By antivancorvo.tumblr.com

Duncan  
Not a commission but a previous palette request, but he completes the trio. <3  
Duncan is found here: http://antivancorvo.tumblr.com/post/176981803441/duncan-and-ostagar

 

Rhue  
Artist love <3  
by ielmoe.tumblr.com

 

Rhue, halloween costume as the Cheshire Cat  
Artist love <3  
inktober 2018 sketch by ielmoe.tumblr.com  
Colored in by me

 

Duncan, Rhunae, Marius individually, and together  
Give-Away winner  
  by padme4000creations.tumblr.com

 

Rhunae and Duncan  
Commission  
by fleshwerks.tumblr.com

 

* * *

Partial or full nudity, and sexual content begins here:

 

 

 

Ch 1: Rhue and Duncan  
Artist love <3  
by ielmoe.tumblr.com

 

Ch 7: Rhue and Duncan  
Kofi Commission  
By nsfwfrosch.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the tumblr links die because they are flagged as NSFW, please let me know so I can rectify that (somehow, I'll think of something). 
> 
> If any of the artists featured here want their artwork removed, please let me know, and I will do so right away. I think I asked everyone for permission, but I'm old (ish) and my memory is terrible.


	31. Twenty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius was just trying to find a quiet place to think, but no place is quiet in a busy port town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1405  
> Smut: No
> 
> TW: graphic depictions of violence, gore?, death

 

Leaning against the wall, I felt my hair brushing against the underside of the bunk bed as I leaned my head back against my hands, and crossed my feet at my ankles. Thankfully, no one was sleeping above me and I had the rest of the barracks to myself. Well, except Marta sleeping in the bunk next to mine, after patrolling a double, she was asleep by the time I arrived. Most of the soldiers were in the practice yard, or out patrolling Highever. With the town bursting at the seams, the few fights and the murder seemed mild. But it was still early.

With the murder unsolved, the guards spent much of their time peering over their shoulders, and their hands gripped on their sword hilts. Not that I faulted them, it was one of Marta’s soldiers. A grizzly scene. The murderer meant for it to appear like the victim exploded; the sternum broken and the ribs pulled outward. The heart was missing. I investigated, of what I could see, there were surgical cuts, rather than ripped tissue, or serration, like teeth. The killer worked on the victim elsewhere, somehow saving the blood, and splashing it across the stone and wood walls in the alleyway. To be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if they added pig’s blood for the additional shock factor. The murderer intended to deliver a message; meant it for Marta. And she was livid.

But thinking about the murder wasn’t my reason for retreating to the barracks.

Anise asked for the evaluation, begged me to make her a warden. Rolling my eyes, I denied her request. Persistent little thing though. Sad, sob story and all. Finally relenting, I agreed to test her abilities - and only test her abilities - I invited her to the inn, the training yard in the back was quiet, absent of staring or mocking soldiers. Kristoff and several other wardens arrived in time for the festivities on their way to Ostagar, but would remain at the inn until the first wave started southbound. Recruiting the dark haired Orlesian to assist me, he and I scrutinized her abilities with several weapon types. She was fantastic with a bow, too slow for dueling daggers, could hold a shield but knocked off her feet too often to be efficient, but that little hellion wanted to wave around a claymore! Maker’s breath! Kristoff’s sword was taller than her, but she insisted on whacking the training dummy with it. He only agreed to escort her to Montsimmard if I granted a stay in Jader to see his wife.

But it wasn’t Anise that forced me to retreat to a quiet place to think.

I hoped moving out of the room to the barracks would give Rhue some space since she apparently was avoiding me. Back at the cave, the fade dream, or rather the subtlety of the demon, had shaken her up, putting too much blame on herself for exposing us to it. Coming to Highever had done her a great deal of good; the week-long festivities had brightened her mood and she was smiling again. Despite avoiding me, the rest of the soldiers were on guard duty to keep an eye on her. I wasn’t about to let her wander these city streets alone, and Duncan agreed with me.

A sigh huffed from my nose, what I wasn’t expecting… Fuck. Fists clenched, my jaw clamped tight.

What was she thinking? The mage thing? The demon thing? I spent over fifteen years fighting darkspawn, exchange one monster for another, and they all fall to my swords. I didn’t fear her demons. Possession, maybe, — but only because I’d have to come to terms with the unthinkable — but fighting them with her? I could do that all day. That didn’t bother me. No drama, she says, but she’s the one running off at the first hint of… what? With Anise? Please. The brothel servant girl? Did she think…?

Shit. Rubbing my palms over my face, I exhaled heavily. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She did, didn’t she? Dragging my fingers through my hair, the connection hadn’t dawned on me before. But fuck, she hadn’t said two words until this morning. Blights be damned, I have to make it clear to her…

A bark of laughter cut through my internal monologue.

“You missed all the action.”

“I usually do…”

Auric? Leaning forward, the bed frames of so many bunk beds made it appear like peeking through a forest of trees. He remained near the door speaking with one of the Highever guards. Why was he in the barracks? I thought Marta had him arrested?

“… So what did I miss this time?”

Reaching over, I nudged Marta. When she startled awake, I placed my fingers to my lips.

“A murder. One of ‘em soldiers that come up from Ostagar with the wardens. Where were ya, anyway?”

Signaling, I indicated for her to move under the bunk. When she nodded, I shifted, like molasses flowing over the edge of the cot and onto the floor. Glancing across the space, she glided in practiced silent movements from her bunk to the floor. Pressed to the floor under our respective beds, we glanced at one another, her brows knit in confusion until she heard their voices.

“Down below.”

“Cap’n had you locked up? I didna think ya did guard duty no more.”

“Naw. Not enough charges, evidence, whatever, to hold me. He assigned me outta the way, to keep me from that bitch.”

“The sergeant?” There was a hush, “not so loud…” Footsteps approached, booted heels ringing on stone until they halted close to the bed I was hiding under. Black and polished to a shine, the gray of his trousers ending precisely at the swell of the heel.

Turning my head, I glanced at Marta as she eyed the boots intently, her body tense, while slowly easing her dagger free of its sheath.

After some scuffling from one side of the row to the other checking bunk beds, the guardsman called out, “Clear.” Turning, boots clipped a retreat to the other end of the room. She glanced at me, her lips pressed together into a thin line.

“Reminded me of your work. Lotta blood. Real head turner, ya know?”

A derisive snort, “I heard it looked like a mage went crazy.”

Hushed whisper, “I thought for sure…”

“That’s the beauty of it, right?” Auric giggled, “Besides, there’s a mage traveling with that bitch. Easy to blame.”

Marta frowned at me, her fist clenching the handle of her dagger, I shook my head, mouthing, “Not yet.”

The guardsman chuckled, “Brilliant! Let’s tell the cap’n.”

“Hmm, wasn’t she assigned a bunk in here?” Footfall on stone as Auric approached until his boots were close enough to reach out and touch. The toes scuffed and brown, his pant legs tucked into the collar of the otherwise black, worn boots.

“Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t her shift over? Hmm, I’ll find her later.”

“Yah, yah, find her later. It wouldn’t be Satinalia without a hangin’. If not the mage, there’s a thief we been trackin’. Real close. Should nab ‘em tonight.” the other man said, a muffled shuffling noise, like he was rubbing gloved hands together.

“Oh hey, wait.” Auric turned, I watched his boots shuffle back to the other end as the tension in my neck and shoulders subsided with each step.

A startled yelp, “What….?” Then there was a muffled grunt, a gargled, “Why?” from my view under the beds, one pair of boots flopped against the ground useless, then the clatter of metal against stone followed by a muttered curse. A series of grunts, the boot heels dragging across the stone, a creek of springs, and a heavy burden flopped atop of the bed.

“Sorry, friend, but you talk too much.” More shuffling and grunting, was he covering up the body with blankets? A hand reached down for the blade, “Don’t go anywhere,” then giggled with girlish flare. He crossed the distance to the door, a slow, deliberate creak of metal hinges, then a quiet click.

With friends like that, who needs enemies? “We can’t stay here,” I whispered, slipping out from under the bed. A wary glance above the top of the bed was all I needed to know we were alone. “Grab your stuff, Serg. We’ll return to the inn.”

“I’m going to rip his intestines through his nose,” she hissed.

 


	32. Twenty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of quality time between Duncan and Rhue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count:2474  
> Smut: No

Leaning against the door jamb between the kitchen and hallway, out of the way of the cook and servants, I waited for Rhue to return. She had made it a habit the last few days to slip in through the alleyway to the kitchen, then head for the back stairs, skipping the front common room entirely. The elven servant, Vuna, proved helpful in information and more. It wasn’t long before Rhue skipped excitedly into the kitchen with a bundle of purchases, Satinalia gifts, her face lit up in joy, even as she claimed one meant for me. Clearing my throat to catch her attention, I didn’t want the surprise spoiled by my loitering.

Eyes wide, Rhue stared at me then a smile spread across her lips. Brushing a strand from her face and behind her ear, “I should put this away. See you later, Vuna!” Slipping past me, she headed for the stairs.

Glancing to Vuna, I nodded, she returned the nod, then I turned to follow Rhue up the stairs. Up, three flights, down the hall, and around the corner, it wasn’t often I could relax and enjoy the view of swaying hips. Opening the door with her key, I waited at the door for her to dig out her bag from under the bed and stuff her purchases into it, then push it back under the bed.

“Come with me, Rhue.”

Glancing up at me, her brows furrowed, “Am I in trouble?”

With her down on her knees, staring up at me like that, I nearly quipped, ‘Would you like to be,’ but I had other plans that didn’t include bending her over and smarting her bottom with my palm. At least, not at the moment. The image forced a smile across my lips, “Of course not,” and held out my hand to her.

Climbing to her feet, she slipped her small palm in mine, locked the door behind us, and we ascended the stairs to the fourth floor. Vuna was waiting by a door and waved us over to her when she saw us. Leading us down a short hall, up another flight of stairs to the roof access, then guided us over to a secluded area, mostly a collection of potted pine trees and painted dividers, “Everything is ready for you, warden Duncan.”

The east was darkening a deep wine pierced by the last golden rays before the sun sank in the west. From this height, the crowd below maintained a low rowdy rumble. Masks, music, wine, and dancing would define the night.

The small area held a table and two chairs, and candles in glass jars lined the painted dividers, while the area nearest the railing was free of all obstacles. The servants already arranged plates, silverware, and a couple wine glasses on the table. A vase of yellow petaled Winter Jasmine marked the center, flanked by two candles at the bottom of glass jars.

“Romantic,” Rhue murmured under her breath.

Escorting her to the table, I pulled out the chair for her and waited for her to sit down, then scooched the chair in. Leaning down, my lips brushed her temple, “Indulge me.” Moving away from her, I sat down in the chair across from her.

Vuna approached with the cart, setting a basket of biscuits in front of us, and date paste in a shallow bowl. “These are a type of roll from Antiva,” she said, adding a bowl of dates and green olives to the table, “It’s made with wheat flour, cheese, grape juice, and a few spices and baked atop of a bay leaf. I really like it with the date spread. It’s a Satinalia favorite around here.”

Picking up a roll, I informed Rhue, “Rivain has something similar my mom would bake. Better, but this is good, too.”

 

Grunting, Vuna set down two tumblers, and poured a white wine into each, “Mulsum imported from Antiva. A good start for the palate before the main meal.”

Picking up the glass, Rhue did the same, I lifted the tumbler and clinked it with hers, “To us.”

A moment of surprise, then her eyes lit up, a genuine smile stretched across her lips, “To us.”

We drank. I finished the Mulsum, more familiar with the drink, whereas she took a sip, to sample, another sip to roll it across her tongue before she drank the rest.

Vuna removed the tumblers to the bottom shelf of the cart. Into the main glasses, she poured a red wine, “A mulled wine, imported from Rivain, with added honey and spices. This will be good with your dinner.” A moment of hesitance, “I do apologize, cooking for the festivities, there was no time to heat it.”

Reaching for my glass, Rhue set it beside hers, then hovered her palm over both. A blue glow left her hand and seeped into liquid in each of the glasses. She passed it back. “It’s fine, Vuna.”

“That must be very handy.”

“Like anything, it has its positives and negatives.”

Vuna hmmd, nodding in understanding. From the cart, she pulled the metal covering off one of the main plates, took the knife and 2 tonged fork and carved into the bird, “Quail, roasted with a hazelnut sauce.” It smelled amazing. Carving it in half, then cutting the wings and legs off, she transferred half the bird to Rhue’s plate, then the other half to mine.

“This is too much…” Rhue whispered in awe.

“Whatever you don’t eat, will go down to the other wardens. Eat what you want. It won’t go to waste,” I informed her, watching the relief spread across her features.

Removing another metal covering, Vuna dished out a yellow mash next to the quail, “This is a gourd imported from Tevinter. It’s a little bitter, so it’s cooked with almonds, honey, spices, grape juice, and dates.” She stepped back and glanced between us, “Do you need anything else before I return to the kitchens?”

Shaking my head, “This is fine, thank you, Vuna.”

Bowing briefly, “I will return shortly with your desert,” pushing the cart away, she left us.

“Fancy,” Rhue whispered, staring at the feast in front of us, “What’s the occasion?”

“Satinalia,”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

Chuckling, I cut the roll in half, separating the top from the bottom, and slathering date puree in between, I took a bite. “Mmm, not bad. My mom’s was better.” Setting the roll down, I started in on the bird.

“You never talk about your family,” she prompted, dipping a spoon in the squash and tasting it on the tip of her tongue. Looking pleasantly surprised, she took another bite.

Cutting into the bird, I took a bite and thought about how much or little I wanted to speak of my family. Swallowing, “My mother immigrated to Highever from Rivain, met my dad, married, had me, moved to Val Royeaux. Not much to say beyond that.”

Listening intently, she chewed on the bird meat, “Did you leave home to become a Grey Warden?”

“No,” taking a bite of the gourd mash to think about the answer. “They died when I was young. I turned to unorthodox means of supporting myself before a Grey Warden enlisted me.”

Giggling, she pointed her fork at me, “Unorthodox? That’s a fancy way to say you were a criminal.”

Grumbling, I changed the subject, asking her about what she thought about Highever after being gone so long. Between eating and her animate rambling, she didn’t ask again about my past. Her eager excitement of exploring the city was a thing of beauty. Wait till we arrived to Denerim. Though, I doubted it would amuse her to lose herself there. At least Highever was easier to navigate. When we finished eating, she was only half way through her meal, but already full, leaning back against the chair with her hand splayed across her belly.

The kitchen servants returned, Vuna, and another whose named escaped me, took our plates, careful to transfer the food to a new plate and top it with the metal cover before sliding the dirty dishes into a bucket at the bottom shelf of the cart. Vuna set down a small cake before us, poured honey over the top and sprinkled hazelnuts. Setting small forks and small plates before us, she cut a piece for each of us, transferring the pieces to small plates. She returned the rest of the cake to the cart.

After refilling our wine glasses, Vuna set down another set of tumblers and poured the Mulsum, “To clean your palate for desert.” Setting a cloth napkin down beside my plate, she slid something metallic under it. “Anything else you need, warden Duncan?”

“No, you can leave us now,” I smiled, “Make sure the rest of these gets to Marius and the others.” They nodded as they backed away, taking the cart and excess away.

While I left room for the cake, finished my piece, and used the cloth napkin to clean my hands and mouth. Rhue took two bites and declared herself full.

Rising, I dropped my napkin on the table, slipped the metallic item into a pocket, and went to her and offered her a hand. Slipping her hand in mine, she followed me to the railing. By now the sky was a deep purple, the sun long gone and the party below continued to grow louder the more people joined in the festivities. Tonight the crowd would crown the Satinalia king from among this rabble, and he would declare the rule of the night, and each night until the end of Satinalia. Across the way, a band played on a second-story balcony, though they could be hard to hear above the festive cacophony.

“Hear the music below?” Pointing out the band to her.

“Yes. I was wondering where the music was coming from.”

“Care to dance with me,” I asked, lifting her hand to my lips.

“I don’t know how,” Rhue’s eyes widened and shook her head.

“I can teach you.”

Laughing, she shook her head again, “I’ll step on your feet, or worse, you’ll step on mine if I step wrong.”

“The easy solution is to stand on top of my feet, I’ll walk the steps slowly so you can find the rhythm.”

Tilting her head, she looked thoughtful, then finally nodded, “Ok, that seems fair. The music is lovely, and I always wanted to learn…”

Stepping back, I grinned and bowed over my hand, “M’lady, if you would grant me the pleasure of this dance?”

Giggling, she nodded.

Once her slippered toes stood atop my boots, I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her hand with the other. To start, I murmured the steps to her, but my voice fell away the longer I stared into her upturned face. Her cheeks flushed from the wine, or the excitement of the festival, or the dancing, or even the company, — but my ego was not so large to entertain the last — a smile stretched across her lips, her eyes bright with that elfy glow anytime I swirled her past the luminescence of candles. She leaned back, giggling, the breeze ruffling through her hair as I danced with her across the rooftop.

It only took a moment for my boot to catch the hem of her robes, and down we both went; her giggling turned into a squawk of alarm, a split second a myriad of emotions passed until I settled on determination. Pulling her across me, I twisted and landed on my back, knocking the breath from my lungs; seconds later, she landed on my chest.

Concerned, I asked, “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

Startled, Rhue stared at me, then started laughing, “I’m fine. I guess I’m better at horizontal dancing.” Her giggling turned sheepish as she tried to hide her face against my chest.

Chuckling, I shifted her to my side, her head pillowed on my arm. With the rise of voices and cheering down in the street, it drowned out the music. “That’s fine, the music is better, too.”

She took a moment, then her eyes widened, and she gasped, but she recovered quickly, her lip quirking, “Are you flirting with me, Duncan?”

“Hmm, so I am.” Cupping her face with my palm, I bent down to nudge my nose against hers, “I’ve not kissed you in a while.”

“A travesty, surely,” Rhue murmured, wrapping an arm around my neck and rubbing the tip of her nose against mine, “One you should rectify immediately,” her eyes daring me, challenging me to close the distance, and that hint of a coy smile at the edges of her lips.

Fragrant mulled wine clung to her breath when her lips parted, inviting. Closing the short distance, my lips pressed hungrily against hers, my probing tongue tasting the cinnamon and cloves spicing her tongue as it curled around mine. Wrapping my arms firmly around her, she filled all those empty spaces I denied myself existed. Denied, even when she insisted. No more. She was too precious. Time was too short. Deepening the kiss, I pulled her into me, even as I fell back into her.

An explosion overhead lit up the sky, reminiscent of the tiny bursts of energy in my heart and mind each time I kissed her lips. Pulling away to watch with awe, Rhue stared upwards as the sky lit up with a million sparks lit with magefire, then a second, followed by a third. A cheer rose, the nightly fest off to a start.

“Rhue…” Her smile infectious when she returned her gaze I smiled down at her, “I want this to mean something. I want us to mean something. I want the physical to be an expression of our relationship, not only the beginning or end.”

Furrowed brows, her gaze slipped from my face in thought, then asked, “Monogamy? Just you and me?”

“And leave Marius out? He’s become quite fond of you.” As I searched her face, she searched mine, a delicate dance of words, I didn’t want to spook her unnecessarily. Sharing her with Marius was the least of my worries, it was capturing her heart. A tiny bird in my hands with fluttering, panicked heart beat — I did not want to cage her — I wanted to show her she had nothing to fear. I didn’t know everything that happened in the Circles, but I heard enough from Fiona.

Shaking her head, Rhue frowned, “I upset Marius, I don’t think he likes me.”

“What happened?” It took a moment to pry it from her, but she gave me the abbreviated story, her side anyway, “That doesn’t sound like him. Are you certain?”

“Pretty certain?”

“Hmm. I’ll speak with him.” Pushing up off the ground, “But for now, there’s more. Come with me.” Rising, I helped her to her feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve not had any of this, but it looks amazing. I want to try the bird with a cornish hen.  
> https://followinghadrian.com/2016/01/13/a-taste-of-ancient-rome-a-saturnalia-feast/  
> I'm also sorry if I spent too much time on the food, it was making me hungry.


	33. Twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old man is visited by a treacherous youth from his past.
> 
>  
> 
> Note: The point of view is different for this chapter, and I doubt it will be repeated again. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Maybe. There's enough information from previous chapters to guess who these two are, even though no names are given. If not, well, enjoy the mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 1253  
> Smut: No
> 
> TW: Violence. Minor character death.

Footsteps on gravel marked the approach of an unfamiliar gait, a stranger. Older now, his eyes had long lost vision. Dappled lights on dark, shadows fading across scattered light beams. It strengthened his other senses. Smell, touch, hearing. He recognized the walking gaits of most people that passed. The small children, the adults, the elders. His sense of smell had improved, if only for the lack of whiskey that would dull all senses. The young ones smelled new, like freshly dug dirt, the adults smelled tired, like stale tea and burnt bread, and the elders smelled like grave dust upon the winds. This one was different. Unfamiliar. The stranger smelled metallic and peculiar.

Touching the old tin cup, his aged fingers glided across dented metal, he rattled the lone penny at the bottom of the cup.

“Alms,” his voice dusty from disuse.

The stranger stopped, crouched with a crackle of knee joints, directly before him. Holding up the cup, “Alms for the blind, kind one?”

“I am no kind stranger.”

A man, then. Younger. Mid to late twenties by the sound of his voice, if he was to guess. Tone clipped, probably served in the army or a guard. Or someone too nosy and should mind his own business.

“I’m harming none sitting here, ser.”

“Maker, you reek. Like urine, and feces, and, stale sweat.”

Wincing, he set the cup in front of him, just on the edge of the old, faded carpet he sat on. Only memory reminded him of the colors he could no longer see. Blue and red threads interwoven, with splashes of yellow and green. A gift from his long deceased wife. Maker knew what it looked like now. Probably much like him, old, tattered, grey, and reeking of bodily fluids. Despite how good his smelling had become, he no longer smelled himself.

But it was also the reason, the old man knew, that most avoided his small stretch of the roadway. Even now, Satinalia celebrations were taking place down the street, but none had ventured near to offer him what the Taryn had so generously provided.

The stranger rose, leather soles against gravel and sand creeping around him. Tilting his head, the old man listened intently, “I hear you. Get out from behind me. There’s nothing here for you.”

A crack of knee joints, the stranger was behind him. Shifting to the side, as well as he could, his legs no longer worked as they should. As useless as the rest of him, really.

“You should be dead, old man.”

“Oh? Do I speak with the Maker, then? Have you come for me instead of Andraste?” Tongue and mouth balled up saliva and mucus before spitting it out into the street.

“Hardly,” the younger man snorted in revulsion, “Hmm, but you were my first.” Fingernails scratching at skin. “A botched job, really. Young and inexperienced.”

“I don’t remember you,” the old man muttered darkly. Some nobody trying to threaten him? It started with an itch between his shoulder blades. His memory of those days was faint at best, a smear of whiskey and time and incoherence the rest.

The young man shifted, hands patting against fabric, “Ahh yes, here you go.” Smooth glass touched his hands, which he instinctual wrapped his old weathered fingers around, a bottle by the shape. Was it…? “Did I remember correctly? Go ahead, drink up.” The young man’s voice giddier.

Goose pimples spread down his arms. It must have been the change in tone, the mirth that spread the curtain of old memories. “I remember you.” Old fear, churned in the pit of his empty belly.

“Good. Now drink. You deserve it after everything I did to you.” There was a squeak of movement, like the young man was bouncing in place. An air of excitement.

Turning the cap, he whiffed the familiar aroma. It reminded him of his youth, when he could take on anything and anyone. The world was his. Then Duty and Obligation robbed him of his fate, his desire. It reminded him of his failures. Of fist fights and blood on his tongue. Back when he was alive and rabid with pride.

Tipping the bottle up, he chugged the amber liquid — or so he assumed its color — tasting the bite on his tongue, the fire that flowed down his throat, and splash of heat in his belly. It stung. He felt like he could breathe fire.

Coveting the bottle to his chest, he basked in the pleasure of intoxication. The familiar fog that enveloped his mind.

“I can make it quick now.” The young man’s voice was close to his ear. “I give pain, but I can take it away, too. I’m good. So much better than I was. A bumbling fool, then.”

“Why tell me this?” The old man took another swig from the bottle, the heat was warm and welcoming. Filled his insides with sunlight and warm summer days. A bit of his imagination, but he thought he could feel a tingle of feeling reach his toes. Nonsense, of course.

“Look at you,” then he snickered, “Wait, you can’t. I took away your eyesight. I can see you though. You look pitiful. The people avoid you, if they can. They take other streets to avoid you, to avoid knowing you sit here with your little tin can, shaking it anytime someone walks by. Ignored. You sit in your own filth, day after day, and only the rain water washes it away.”

The old man grunted, took another swig from the bottle. Not like he could walk away from this young fool. Only drunkenness would allow him flee these words.

“Besides,” the younger man paused, “I need to clean up loose ends. You’re a loose end. So is your daughter.”

“I have no daughter.” It was a line he had told himself so many times over the years, he believed it. No wife. No daughter. Until she… no, he would not think of it. Even if he wished otherwise.

The younger man giggled. It was quickly getting on his nerves, “I know her. I follow her, waiting. But when I found out you were dear ol’ daddy,… well! I stalled my plans for her. See, her? I want her to suffer.”

“Why?”

Anger infused his voice now, “It doesn’t matter why! It’s only from kindness I tell you this much.”

The old man snorted, took another swig. Happy fucking Satinalia.

There was a long pause, a sigh of breath through parted lips. “You have suffered long enough. But her, I want to hear her cry, to sob, tears stream down her face.”

The old man swung in the direction of the voice. Connecting with nothing but air.

The younger pressed a finger to the elder’s chest, and pushed him down, “Stop, before you hurt yourself,” then snickered under his breath.

The old man kept the bottle upright enough, the liquid sloshing in its glass container. Pushing himself, he grumbled as he sat back up, and shifted away from the younger. The whiskey dragged out many hazy things from his memory, but it could not bring back his youth.

“Why tell me?” He repeated, wondering what cruel joke the Maker was dishing out for him now.

“Hope? When you reunite with your dead wife, just know your daughter will join you.” There was another giggle, then he felt the leather-encased hands reach around his neck, then a whisper in his ears.

A name.

A crack of bones.

Darkness.


	34. Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one make a night memorable, to show displays of affection and love?  
> To apologize for an earlier slight?  
> Solicit the help and advice of the Innkeeper and her staff, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2712  
> Smut: YES! Fellatio, cunnilingus, finger-banging
> 
> Art by me.

Down two steps, Duncan would pull me up against him, his mouth finding mine, brief soft kisses, before he’d hold my hand again, only to take two more steps; repeating until we reached the fourth floor landing. In the short dark hallway, he pressed me against the wall, hand splayed in my hair, the other lifting my chin for more feathered kisses. Across my brow, my cheeks, delicate over my eyelid, the tip of my nose, leaving me breathless and melting into his touch.

Hovering over my lips, “Not yet, not here,” he murmured under his breath. Capturing my hand, he pressed his lips against the top of my hand, “We’re almost there.” Leading me down the dark hall to the main fourth floor hallway, pools of light puddled the hallway in splashes of golden illumination. Duncan glanced in either direction, eyes skimming over door numbers, choosing the direction toward the rear stairwell. The hallway remained empty, but the muted din of celebration traveled like a ghost in the silence of the fourth floor.

Tugging him back to me, I jumped into his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, arms around his neck, kissing him. He grunted, but held me tight, one hand tucked under my bottom, but turned his head to navigate the length of the hallway. We passed the stairs leading to the third floor. The muted sound louder here.

“Aren’t we supposed to go down another floor?” I murmured, nibbling at his earlobe, his neck, my lips sucking lightly on his salty skin. He tasted like steel and leather and salt. He smelled of cedar and honeyed ale.

Tilting his head to the side, giving me more space to ravage his neck, he paused briefly, “No.” Stopping at the end of the hall, he adjusted me in his arms, dug his free hand into his pocket for the key that unlocked the door. Once inside the room, Duncan nudged the door closed with his boot, and leaned against it, locking it before giving more of his attention back to me, ”You little vixen, I could have dropped you,…”

“You wouldn’t, you like me.” Tugging on his earlobe with my lips, I loved hearing the catch in his breath, and the low growl as it rumbled in his chest.

“Yes,” he said. Teeth scraped across the skin of my neck, “I’m quite…” he bit into the clavicle where it met my shoulder, “…fond of you,” and ran his tongue across my skin, “I had everything figured out,” his touch sending a shiver down my spine, “What are you doing to me?”

Whimpering, his kisses sending quivers across my skin, “Seducing you, before you can run away.” It was an odd question, and not one my pleasure fogged brain could reason out. Whatever it meant, I liked where this was going and I wasn’t about to stop him to find out. Leaning my head to the side, he traced patterns across my neck with his lips and teeth, while my hands busily started tugging on the multitude of buckles; I don’t even know what I was removing, there was too much metal, and belt buckles, and padded armor, and cloth between his skin and mine. Why so many belts?

“Patience, mon cuore,” he gripped my ass, giving it a squeeze, when he set me down on slippered toes. As he tugged off his gauntlets, I reached for his belt, “Look behind you,” his chin dipping to indicate the room.

Confused, I turned around to a spectacular sight. Illuminating the large parlor in a golden glow, dozens of candles of various sizes decorated every free surface in the room, while fragrant wreaths of fir, spruce, and pine formed center pieces upon small tables and on the mantle above the crackling fireplace.

Beside the window facing the inner courtyard, a bottle of wine and two empty glasses waited on a small table.

Various chairs formed small seating arrangements across the room, while the couch faced the crackling fireplace as the room’s center point.

Sectioned off by a couple of three-paneled screens, an alcove flickered with more candle light.

The second door of the room, lead into another room, where the corner of a four poster bed could be seen. Beyond the bed was an Orlesian-style multi-glass paned door leading to the balcony.

“Oh.” My mouth gaped open, “You’re seducing me.”

Wrapping his arms around my waist, Duncan nuzzled my neck, “Mhm. I had help.” Clearing his throat, “A lot of help,” he amended. “I wasn’t sure where your comfort level was, so we have options. The balcony overlooks the street, we can drink wine and watch the Satinalia celebrations. We could sit in front of the fireplace and talk…”

“Just talk?”

Chuckling, he kissed my cheek, “Whatever you like. And the last option, I brought some cards, we could play Wicked Grace…”

Turning in his arms, I wrapped mine around his neck and pressed him back up against the door, I grinned up at him, “Those are the clothed options, what are the unclothed ones?”

Grinning, he glanced over my head, “Well, there’s the bed, the couch, and this room happens to have its own bath, in case you want to clean up first.”

“A bath sounds amazing, actually.” Helping him out of the rest of his armor, each piece discarded on the ground at our feet, lastly, he tugged the tunic over his head, revealing his bronze chest, broad with tight black curls centered along his sternum, and streaked with pale healed skin from ancient wounds. Leaning close, reverent, my lips traced each of the scars that crisscrossed his chest, following the oldest and deepest to the hem of his trousers. It was a wonder he survived whatever caused it. The initial touch startling him, the muscles flexing under my touch. Sinking to my knees, my fingers trailed down his chest, his belly, following the black happy trail to the hem of his pants, my palm following the curve of his growing erection. Maker, he was a stunning man. Lifting my eyes, I watched his expression, my lips forming into a wry grin.

Grunting, he looked down at me, watching with half lidded eyes, his fingers lightly brushing a stray hair from my face, “What are you doing down there, beautiful?”

Nuzzling my chin against his crotch, nipping him with my lips through the cloth, feeling him harden further from my touch, “Helping you out of your boots.” And tease you with my tongue.

Growling low, he leaned heavily against the door, his hand clutching the tunic into a fist.

Sliding my palms down his outer thighs to his knees, I glanced up at him, my lips pressed against the bulge, my nose stroking the hardness through cloth just as his hips shifted forward.

“Rhue…” my name whispered in reverent prayer

“Yes, Duncan? Do you want something?” Leaning back, my smile innocent before bending down reach for the buckles on his boots, fidgeting with them until they loosened them and he was able to kick off his boots once his feet could shake them free.

Returning my attention to his bulge, my palms slid up his calves and thighs, meeting at the pant laces — he was hard, pressing against the cloth, and generating enough heat to compete with the fireplace — gripping one of the laces with my teeth, I pulled it free. He chuckled. Releasing his hard cock from his confining pants, I tugged the thick linen over his hips and down his legs.

Teasing him, I feathered kisses down the length of his thick shaft until he growled under his breath, “Tease.”

Grinning up at him, my tongue flicked out to his heavy sack, tasting the headiness of salt and musk. Wrapping my mouth around the sack, slow, methodical, I gently slipped one ball, then the other into my mouth, rolling them over my tongue, and sucking on them until they popped out past my lips.

He groaned when his body shuddered, his breath quickening, his voice hoarse and thick with need, “Fuck.”

Fondling gently, rolling his sack between my fingers, my tongue glided a wet trail up his dark shaft along the thick vein, past the end of the foreskin to flick the tip for the pearl of salty precum. Stroking his cock, the downward stroke brought the foreskin down, and I leaned forward to swab my tongue across the crown to the satisfying sound of his moan.

With a low growl, “Dammit, Rhue,” the tunic dropped from his grasp, he reached his hand into my hair, gripping my hair in his fist, but lacked any pressure; the other hand pressed his cock down until it was even with my mouth, “Don’t hold back, take it all,” he commanded.

Glancing up at him, grinning, “I’m not done teasing you,” my tongue teasing across the head until it glistened under my ministrations.

He growled my name in frustrated desire, his fist in my hair flexing, but still no pressure.

“Mmm, so tasty,” I whimpered, wrapping my lips around the head and sucking on the tip.

Sucking in his breath, he applied pressure on the back of my head until I sucked the full length of his thick cock, my lips reaching the nest of black curls and tickled my nose, and a moment to control my gag reflex. Holding me in place, his hips pumped, back and forth, fucking my mouth for several strokes, slow and steady until my eyes began to water.

Dragging my head back by my hair, Duncan slid his cock free of my mouth, stroking his hand up and down his cock as he took deep, steadying breathes, “Not yet…”

Reaching down, he helped me back to my feet, and helped me undress, the robe fluttered down to my feet. Bending down, he captured my nipple through my thin white linen under-tunic, his hands capturing the hem but —

Instead, he scooped me up into his arms, kicked off his pants from around his ankles, and carried me to the alcove where the tiled bathtub maintained its permanent location. The tiled edge lined with various candles among the different scented soaps; the tub recently filled as waves of steam rose from the surface.

“Already filled…”

“Mhm,” setting me down, he sat down on the edge of the tub and tugged me close to stand between his legs; to help me out of the thin white sleeveless tunic, a shapeless chemise handed down from another mage. As his hands pressed the fabric upwards, his lips trailed kisses in their wake, his mustache and beard tickling my skin, only stopping when he wrapped his lips around a soft nipple, sucking on in it until it was a firm nub; sending a shiver of desire down my spine and straight to my core.

“Oh, Duncan…” it was my turn to whisper his name in reverence.

Removing the under garment the rest of the way over my head, I dropped it on the ground. Sliding my hands over his head, I removed the tie that bound his hair in a ponytail; loving the way the thick strands of his hair parted in my hands, I dropped my head to rest my face against the top of his head, whimpering a moan into his hair when he rolled the nipple against his teeth.

Calloused palms spread along my waist and down over my hip bones until his thumbs hooked into the linen shorts and slid them down over my hips and ass. Releasing the fully erect nipple, swollen from his ministrations, Duncan glanced up at me, “Spread your legs,” He shifted his attention to the other nipple, tugging it into his mouth, rolling it about across his tongue, and nibbling with his teeth.

Spreading my legs, I whimpered into his hair, “That feels good.”

“Turn about is fair play,” he muttered against my breast, his face tilted up briefly to look up at me, but returned to suck in the first nipple back into his mouth.

Pushing the shorts past my thighs to drop forgotten at my feet, he gripped my ass in both hands, kneading the gluteal muscles and thighs with his rough and calloused palms; my sex throbbed with need for his touch, but his hands moved in concentric circles everywhere but between my legs. “Touch me, please,” my voice breathless.

“Mmm,” releasing my nipple, he glanced up to murmur, “I want to taste you.” Pulling one of my legs up into the crook of his arm, the other keeping me steady, he trailed kisses down my belly to my sex. Gasping, his tongue dipped between the swollen lips, moaning as he teased and nibbled, tongue flicking at the swollen nub, ”Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered under his breath, tightened his grip, and delved his tongue deeper.

Wrapping my arms around his neck trying to hold on, my hips undulating against his face, “Oh, Duncan,” a whimpering mewling sound as pleasure spread up from my core, “Oh yesss…” The tingling sensation of wanton desire streaked through my veins, a flush rising from my chest to my neck to my cheeks, while my leg began to shake and a wave of pleasure crested into bliss. Leaning heavily against him, I didn’t want him to stop, but it was by his will alone that kept me from crumbling to the floor.

Setting my leg down, Duncan wiped his mouth, and set me down on his thigh while I regained my senses. A hand around my waist, the other stroking my arm and shoulder, as he waited for my breathing to return to normal. “When you’re ready, you may need to heat the water again.”

Nodding, I stood so I could reach the tub easier. He slapped my ass. Squeaking in response, I glared at him. He grinned. Bending down beside him to touch my hand to the water, but before I could begin casting, Duncan’s hand slipped between my thighs, one finger slipping inside me, adding a second a moment later, pressing deep inside me as he leaned over to nibble my hip.

Trying to catch my breath, I glanced over my shoulder, “That’s distracting.”

“You better hurry then,” removing his fingers, he tapped my ass, “You’re at the right height. Unlike you, I haven’t come.”

Wiggling my ass at him, I retorted, “Whose fault is that? You stopped me.”

Duncan grinned and slapped my ass with a hard smack, “Such sass. You’re just begging for a punishment, aren’t you?”

“Ow. Yes, please, Commander,” when I grinned back, he chuckled. Channeling mana, a gentle tug from the Fade, I was quick to bring the temperature back to a comfortable bathing hotness, wavy heat rising above the surface.

Duncan was in the tub first, settling into the water, before offering his hand to help me sit down with my back against his chest. Initially we started bathing each other, sniffing the various soaps until we settled on a cedar scented one. However, bathing was the least of his priorities.

Within minutes, bathing was a complete failure when he started kissing my neck and slipped his fingers back between my thighs, all thoughts gone in a passionate fuzzy haze. Adjusting me further to lay on my side, he nudged my thigh further up his chest for his ease of access, his fingers and thumb massaging in slow deliberate motions until I was a gasping, writhing, moaning mess. His other hand joined the first, sliding down my back to cup my ass, adding more fingers to continue teasing my senses.

Wedging me between his palms, he resumed kissing me, showering my face with gentle kisses, “I want you to come for me again, Rhue,” he murmured into my hair.

Undulating my hips, desperate for the friction to be just so, water began to slosh around the tub. Cautioning, he murmured against my temple, “We have all night, mon cuore, you’re not being chased by a bear.”

Giggling, I lifted my chin and slid my hand into his hair, “Kiss me.”

“Gladly,” he bent forward, capturing my lips with his, deepening the kiss as he resumed his steady assault between my thighs that had me whimpering and moaning into his mouth.

* * *

 

I recently watched Marco Bucci’s 10 minutes to better painting videos on youtube.  
Not that it did me any good, but I tossed some greys down and here we are.  
It's not exactly my mental image of what the tub looks like,  
but I used a reference and was just trying to slap greys together.


	35. Thirty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius is having a bit of a bad day after some revelations. And it was going so well before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 3759  
> Smut: No.

“I can’t find Murdina. She’s missing.”

“I found a ship’s passage for Jader.”

“Why the delay in Highever?”

Striding into the common room of the inn, three people converged on me, and spoke over one another. The Sergeant with her animated hands, the retired Orlesian bounty hunter with squared shoulders, and a fastidiously armored warden from Tevinter with a curled mustache and pointed goatee, each vied for my attention once they planted themselves in front of me.

“She picked up her belongings at the barracks with Frankie and Devon, but didn’t come back.”

“I need to talk to the elf, it departs in two days.”

“The rest of us are ready to leave for Ostagar.”

As Grey Warden Constable, Second in Command, I could assess and impart information to any of the wardens coming in, Duncan and I were of one mind on protocol, and he trusted my judgment in these matters.

Stalling the two wardens with a raised hand, “One at a time.” Clasping my hands behind my back, I turned to the sergeant, “Has a search gone out, Marta?”

“Of course,” Marta snapped, “I want help from the city guards on duty. Or at least receive permission to search the areas off limits to us.”

“The Commander is in contact with the Teryn. I’ll relay your request.” When I see him. Kristoff waited patiently, his hands clasped behind his back, “A ship leaves in two days?” He nodded. “Great. Anise is at the alienage at this hour, but she’ll be here in the morning for her lessons.”

“She needs a room the night before, can it be arranged?” Kristoff asked. When I nodded, he returned to his table.

The younger warden, Amulius, casually twirled one side of his black mustache, “Can you wait till the end of Satinalia? Duncan intends to recruit a competitor in the Satinalia Games.”

“Fuckin’ hate crowds,” he complained, “Yeah, sure,” he turned and stalked off, following Kristoff.

 _Well, that was easy._ A cleared throat brought my attention back to Marta. Trying not to sigh in exasperation, “What else do you need, Sergeant?”

“To speak with Duncan.” Snatching at the leather belt strapped across my chest, she gripped it with a white knuckled tenacity, “I’m missing one of my people!” Glancing at her hand, then back at her, my eyebrow arched. She released her hold on me, “Sorry. I just— I penned a letter to Lamont’s parents now that the Chantry has his remains. I need to find her. I can’t — not again.”

“I understand, I do, Marta.” Searching among the diners and drinkers, missing was the recognizable faces of Duncan and Rhue. The entrance door swung open drowning out the dining din with the celebratory zeal of the city inhabitants. It was the familiar red hair which captured my attention, but it wasn’t my red head. With her, the Hahren looked around the room until he spotted me.

Shifting an old decorated, wood box to one hand, he reached out with the other to shake hands, “Good to see you, Warden. We have sad news for Rhue. Have you seen her?”

Motioning to the box, “Sad news? Is that… her father’s remains?”

Shaking his head, “No, but he died today, sometime between the lunch hour and when I went to take him a dinner plate. These are his belongings. And a few things left of her mother. I wanted to give them to her. She’s the last of his kin.”

“Ahh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

A snort of derision came from Anise. She glanced away when I looked at her.

“It was his time,” Threhon replied diplomatically.

“I need to find Duncan, too. I’ll check with the innkeeper. Wait here, have a seat, I’ll be right back.” Leaving Marta huffing with frustration at my back, and the elves looking for a place to wait, I approached the older woman. Grey hair tied up in a bun, she stood beside the door to the kitchen watching the room, while drying her hands on her apron. Smiling one of my devilishly roguish grins (if I do say so myself), “Aren’t you a lovely sight.”

Attention settling on me, the older woman smirked, “Uh huh. What do you want, warden?”

“Only a moment of your precious time. I’m looking for Warden Duncan. And the elven recruit, Rhue.” My hand motioned about mid chest height, ”short, red hair. Have you seen either of them?”

Eyes widening, she looked away, her hands fluttering in front of her, then clasped at her belly to still her hands, “He’s eating dinner with the young elf, the miss warden.”

“Where?” Scanning the room again, I didn’t see him anywhere. “Do you have a private dining room?”

“On the roof patio.” The innkeeper regained herself and planted her feet in front of me when I took a step toward the stairs, “Ser warden requested not to be disturbed.”

“They’ve finished,” the kitchen help, an elf with black hair, pushed a cart passed us with what remained of someone’s meal, “They’ll be in the room by now. This is for—”

Without delay, I brushed past them, and hurried up the stairs. If I could catch them before they left the room, with the murders, he would prefer to escort her if she wanted to partake in the celebrations. But there was also this itch between my shoulder blades. Marta implied Duncan did not know about the missing soldier, Threhon thought the death of the old drunk was dire enough to leave the alienage at this hour, and I still needed to talk to Rhue about her assumptions.

By the time I caught the railing to the third floor, my stomach bundled itself into a tight knot. The innkeeper paused on the stair landing huffing for breath, while I fished out my key, and strode down the hallway to the shared room; unlocking the door, I slammed the door open. Moon light streamed in from the window while the red glow of banked coals in the fireplace illuminated the room in soft light and shadows. Otherwise, the room was empty.

Confused, I spun back to the innkeeper, “They’re not here.”

Palms together, “They, uh… they’re..” her palms separated, leaving only her fingertips touching, then pressed them back together again, “busy.”

“Busy,” I repeated impassively, to her weak, unhelpful smile. Busy, but not gone. That meant they were still in the building somewhere. “I swear to the Maker, woman,” locking the door behind me, I stalked toward her, “if you don’t tell me which room they’re in, I will pound on every single door in this place till I find them.” Pacing to the closest door to her, I bundled up my fist to pound on the door.

“Warden, please. He’s not in there,” her hands fluttered nervously under my stare, her words and tone bolder, her chin lifting defiantly, “He’s busy, so don’t disturbed him. Please. He was very specific.”

With my face inches from hers, I growled, “Lives are at stake, ma’am. He doesn’t have that luxury.”

Exhaling, “Maker, help me,” she glanced over her shoulder. “He wont be happy.”

“He can be unhappy with me all he wants.”

She sighed again, resigned, “Fourth floor.”

Pushing past her, I raced up the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor, but halted when I reached the landing. The hallway was empty, but there was nothing distinguishing one door from another. The innkeeper ascended slowly, one creaky step at a time, taking everything in me not to drop down to her step to haul her up the rest of the stairs. My patience was thin while the sailor’s knot in my stomach tightened, looped, and doubled itself. It wasn’t that I was in a hurry to separate Duncan from Rhue, not really, but that itch between my shoulder blades felt like a dire warning.

Once she reached the top step, she studied me, her breath wheezing through her open mouth, “These old bones can’t keep up with your youth.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I tried to grin, but the face she made, I might have bared my teeth.

“Uh huh,” she pulled out a jangling mess of keys, then peered up at me, her brown eyes narrowed, “Wait here.” Shuffling down the hallway to one of the doors, she knocked, and pressed her ear to the door, “Ser warden. I’m sorry to bother you, ser. I uh… Warden Marius is… insistent.”

Wait? I had no time to wait. “Open the door,” I ordered her, hovering at her elbow to prod her out of the way once she unlocked the door, but her hesitant, slow pace made me snap.

“Andraste’s flaming arse!” Snatching the keys, I unlocked, and opened the door to her indignant squawking; shoving them back into her hands, I strode into the room. Well lit, the sitting area fit for a Marquis, it was like I stepped foot into Marquise de Montsimmard’s parlor, and expected to find musicians in the corner, treats and fluted alcoholic drinks on trays, and one of the Marquise ladies-in-waiting giving me coy come-hither eyes. Instead, candles glowed from every available space, the scent of pine and spruce filled the air, and the sound of splashing water and gasping moans somewhere further in the room. Shit.

Turning the corner, past the three paneled screens, Duncan and Rhue were intertwined in lover’s embrace in the tiled tub, her face and neck flushed with pleasure. Blinking with lazy ardor, he slid her away from him to her whimpered protests, and stood. The knot in my belly tightened, and a wave of red swept up my spine, across my scalp, and over my eyes. Stumbling back, the strong visceral reaction left me surprised and confused.

As he stepped from the tub, I could certainly appreciate the picture he posed: dripping water and soap down chiseled muscles, dark skin marred by pale slashes from old scars. Wet, black hair splayed across his shoulders, while water dripped from his beard. While I desired Duncan in the fade dream, it was buffeted by Rhue’s eagerness, and — if I recalled correctly, Rhue mentioned the demon fed on our desires — so the dream felt hazy and disconnected to what I felt right now. I also didn’t remember bitterness or jealousy within the fade dream. Looking away from him, I needed to get a handle on my confusing emotions; staring at the line where the end of the tile and hardwood met was a good starting place.

“What are you doing here, Marius?“ his nature smooth, but I could hear the inferno threaded in his words. Shit.

It was a wonder, wholly nude, and grabbing a towel from a small stand, he could present such an imposing figure, and dare I say, more so than when armored and armed. Stalking toward me, Duncan scowled, forcing me to take a step back, then another, until the three panel screen obscured the view of the alcove.

The innkeeper squawked a second time when he came into her view, red-faced and looking everywhere but Duncan, “Ser, he insisted. He threatened to bother all my other patrons.”

“Thank you, Helga,” he glared at me, but his tone no longer carried the edge of violence, “I can handle it from here. Lock the door as you leave.”

“Of course. Thank you, ser.”

Turning on her heel, she flew out of the room in a flurry of skirts, slamming the door behind her.

“I’m busy, Marius,” another intimidating step closer forced me to back-step closer to the door, when my boot hooked on something behind me, “What is so bloody important you threatened Helga.”

Shaking my boot loose of one of his vambraces, “Sarge is missing—”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“She’s demanded for the Teryn to run a city wide investigation. Grant her and her squad unfettered access to restricted areas. I spoke with him this evening. She knows this.” A blur of movement raced past behind me, but the steely look Duncan was punctuating his words with didn’t allow me to turn my head to check what the mage was doing behind me, “He was in the midst of a dinner party with nobles from Denerim and the Arl of Amaranthine. He’ll address it in the morning.” Duncan glanced over my shoulder, his expression softening, as I felt the breath of her ghost past me again.

“She didn’t inform me she spoke with you already.” He was already on top of it. Of course, he was. Why was I under the impression he didn’t know what was happening? “And her?” punctuating my words with a thumb toward Rhue, “You changed your mind…?” _Never mind the fade dream, huh? Never mind that it involved all three of us._

“My business is mine.”

Glowering, we stared at each other at an impasse. Sighing, I darted around him. Sitting in an oversized fluffy chair, Rhue waited, staring at a patch of carpet, hair damp, dressed in her oversized robes, and her feet tucked under her legs. She wouldn’t notice at me, which flushed my face with anger, “And you! You couldn’t even bother to talk to me! No drama?! You assumed! What the bloody—”

“Marius.” It was a low growl in warning.

 _Right. Of course. Don’t frighten the fire mage._ Pacing in front of her chair, I drew two slow breaths before I knelt to face her, then drew another deep breath to refocus my thoughts. Watching her delicate, tapered fingers fluttering in her lap; they were lovely, small hands, soft with ink smudges on her right hand fingers. There was some scarring I hadn’t spotted on the top of her left hand, red blotchiness, raised skin, and welted that looked similar to fire damage. Sliding her right hand over the left, she covered her scar. She must have noticed my staring. When I felt ready, I looked up at her, “Had you come to me. Had you asked me. I could have explained everything you wanted to know.”

Voice soft, she stared at her fingers, “It’s none of my business what you do, Marius.”

“I want it to be your business, kitten” I whispered, the affection in my tone pulled her eyes to mine, “You deserve the truth. I’m not upset with you. Duncan on the other hand, I’m pissed.”

Glancing in his direction, Duncan wore the towel draped across his shoulders while he stood near the door pulling his pants on, watching our interaction.

“There is not enough lye soap solution in all of Thedas to scrub the image of you and my brother out of my brain, Duncan.”

Picking up his tunic, Duncan glanced at me, “Sorry. If I had a choice in what memories you gained from the demon, that wouldn’t be it.”

“Sorry? You never told me!”

“Marius, I thought you knew.”

“How the fuck would I?! You sent me away every time he showed up in Denerim!”

Dragging the red tunic over his head, “I suggested, you chose to leave.”

“Great! Blame it on me.”

Sighing, he swept his hair from his face, “I’m not blaming you, Marius.“ Moving past, he stopped at the window, peeled back the curtains to peek out into the darkness, “Neither of you would resolve your disagreements,” he turned back to the room and leaned against the window jam, “I sent you on errands instead, because I trust you.”

Rubbing a hand through my hair, I sighed. _He trusts me to run errands, but accused me a village back of questionable integrity._ Returning my attention to her, “I usually go to the brothel to unwind— I…” _speaking of questionable integrity._

She returned her attention to her fingers, twirling them against each other.

“In Highever, Rivan sets everything up, but he was busy when I arrived. I waited in the bathhouse — similar to the fade dream, but all white tiles and marble columns. I think you would appreciate it, the walls and the bottom of the pool are plastered with erotic mosaic art and sacrilegious stained-glass windows.”

Duncan cleared his throat, encouraging me to make my point.

Called the Tevinter Room, it was possibly the only reason the Chantry hadn’t forced Madam Lulu to change the decor, but it was not the point I was aiming for. I was hemming and hawing, trying to catch her attention, struggling to find the words I wanted to say.

“If you don’t mind stepping in a brothel, I could show you sometime,” I offered with a smile, but she didn’t look up. Frowning, I continued, “Duncan knows this about me, but you don’t, and I didn’t want to…” Fail. Disappoint. Deceive. “… mess things up with you.”

No response. _Was she listening?_

“When Rivan retrieved me I felt uncomfortable, but he handed me one of his garish silk robes to wear, this outlandish—” the grin at the memory faded when she didn’t respond, “Anyway, he swept me up the stairs, with Anise following behind with my basket of clothes. By the time we reached the third floor, everything felt… wrong. When saw you from the window, I—” I remembered how the sun reflected off her hair, illuminating her face like a fiery halo, and then my belly flopped within my rib cage. “I couldn’t stay. I sent her to stall you. Got dressed. Rivan was offended. And, well, you know everything else.”

Rhue’s eyebrows pinched together, eyes narrowed, but she still stared at her hands. I failed after all. Sighing, I rose. Turning to Duncan, I squared my shoulders, “I have done everything you ever asked of me. Without fail.”

“True,” he inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“The other wardens want an early start to Ostagar. Permission to lead the way.”

Frowning, Duncan started to shake his head, but stopped. Sighing, he nodded, “Permission granted.”

Looking up from her hands, Rhue glanced between us, “What?”

Taking two steps toward the door, I turned back around, “Why didn’t you tell me? At any point, you could have maybe mentioned, ‘Oh hey, I’m fucking your brother.’”

His head snapped back to look at me, his features disgruntled, “Marius…”

“I didn’t think your attraction extended to men. Had I known…”

“And then what?”

“We could have—”

“And risk you leaving, too?”

“What? Leave? Where the fuck would I go?”

Leaning against the windowsill, he scratched at the bearded jawline, “Once Riordan reached his assignment in Montsimmard, he remained there. Occasionally, he would help me with something, spend more time than was necessary for the task, then return. He asked, sometimes demanded, for you to join him.”

“Did you ask him to stay?”

Turning back to the window, he hesitated before responding, “No.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t want you to leave.”

Startled, I stared at his back. Duncan knew I would never go to Montsimmard, or anywhere my brother was stationed, willingly. Yet, he also knew if Riordan joined him in Denerim, it would have driven me away.

“By the time it was over— the decision was mutual, he was there, I was here,— we… you and I… had fallen into a comfortable companionship.” Duncan glanced over his shoulder, “My second in command, my right hand.”

Opening my mouth, words escaped me, I clicked my teeth back together. Pacing in front of the chair in front of Rhue, I felt her eyes following me; running my hands through my hair— gripping my hair. Fuck. “We wasted so much time.”

“We ended it during your trip for the tournament in Starkhaven. That’s why I met you there, I needed the reprieve.”

Continuing to pace, I remembered Starkhaven, and her Prince Sebastian, the youngest son of Prince Vael. We were introduced originally at the tournament. An excellent marksman; and a flirt. His parents promised him to the Chantry upon his twenty-first birthday at the end of the summer. That was my summer of debauchery. “That was ten years ago. We. Wasted. Ten. Years. — Ten. Fucking. Years. — For a grey warden,…” I didn’t say it, not with her sitting right there, only a recruit.

“I didn’t want to jeopardize our working partnership with an intimate relationship.” _How could he be so fucking calm about this?!_

“This is such bullshit!” Ten years! I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Had I known? This felt like a theme. Had I known? Had I known what was going on in Rhue’s head? Or Duncan’s head? The fade dream was preferred over this shit, our emotions less complex. The anger bubbled up inside me. The jealousy. Again, denied. Over and over again. Denied. And that familiar resentment at the back of my throat, and bile on my tongue.

“Fuck,” striding for the door, I swung it open, but denied the satisfying smack of the metal door knob slamming against wood, instead the door caught up in the armor still on the ground.

“Noooo!”

Boots on the stairway landing, I didn’t stop, leaping over steps, and nearly flying to the first floor.

_It was too hot. I couldn’t breath._

When I returned I’d find Amelius, and whoever else wanted to leave, and head straight for Ostagar. No longer in the mood to celebrate Santinalia, I was ready to leave the city.

_Worthless. But at least I could do my duty._

_While my brother received everything I ever wanted, I received nothing but crumbs time and again and again. Our parents. The respect of Highever. Of its Teryn. Duncan._

_Riordan had it all._

Stalking across the common room, Threhon rose, but watched me walk out without saying a word.

Behind me, she clattered down the stairs, certain she would stop well before the last step. Through the common room, the soft scuffing of slippered feet trailed in my wake, “Marius, wait…” Stepping out into the night air, the small courtyard faced the busy street. Sea air drifted in from the harbor and the celebratory ruckus paraded through the streets. She followed me out the door and nearly into my chest when I turned around to clasp her arms.

“Rhue,” she had determination. Touching her chin and cupping her face with my hands, “Stay here, kitten. I need air. I need to clear my head. Besides, Threhon is here to see you.” Pressing my lips to her forehead, lingering to inhale the cedar scent on her skin and in her hair, I turned and darted into the midst of the celebrants, not feeling the excitement for the holiday, but there was that briefest of moments when I couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, a cryptid: How do emotions work? Why are they so messy? *sneezes* Now my nose itches...


End file.
